As the Chair Swivels While sitting at my desk today, my thirteen-year-old launched into an assessment of our various desk chairs. His younger brother had received one for Christmas - an odd request for an eleven-year-old, but that’s how we roll. He ended lamenting that everyone had a comfortable chair to sit in while working on school but his seat was hard plastic. I assured him that if he wanted a desk chair we would surely try to find him one to which he replied, “Oh no, mom, I don’t really want one. If I had a nice desk chair, all I’d do is swivel.” It’s good to know one’s limitations. Sometimes I wonder if a woman with ten kids can be lazy. I have friends that have assured me that this is practically impossible, but still I’m not sure. I have quite a few things to do at this moment, but I’m not entirely sure what they are because I won’t write them down. I find writing long lists depressing. Although it helps to organize my thoughts, the sheer magnitude of the