The Sacrifices We Make

 I have a confession to make. Ever since I first encountered one, I’ve harbored the cherished ideal of having my very own papasan chair. I don’t know what caused this obsession. Perhaps it’s because I always curl up in whatever char I sit in, and the papasan chair is perfect for curling up. It’s just always embodied luxury to me, but I’ve never had one.

This morning, a friend of mine was at a yard sale. She found a papasan chair (with the footstool!) for $25. My friends, that is practically giving it away. And I wouldn’t even have to go to the sale—my friend offered to get it for me and let me pay her back.

A glance at the living room told me I couldn’t really fit it inside. Then, my mind feverishly working, I thought, if I move the desk here, then the papasan chair could go here, and I could finally have one!

But alas, as soon as I got everything figured out, it occurred to me that even if I could make room for it, if I’m going to crowd the living room, it should probably be with the kinds of things Kara will want when she’s a little older.

And so it begins, the lifetime of sacrificing my wants for my daughter’s.

But, I can still dream. We have a very large deck, and I’ve discovered that people make outdoor papasan chairs. Hope lives on!

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