And what, you might ask, is this a photo of? Well, my friends, it just so happens to be one of my favorite Christmas presents–the amazing Tush-Cush.
Like most of you, I am at my desk for many hours each day, and when I am I sit in a hardbacked wooden chair. Allen Dean hates my chair. Thinks it looks uncomfortable. Thinks I need something ergodynamic. He would be happy to see me in a big, wheelie, puffy chair that tilts and moves up and down. It makes his back ache to see me in my austere wooden chair.
And, lately, it must be said that my wooden chair makes my back ache, as well. But the problem is that I love it. I don’t want to wheel or move up and down and I certainly don’t want to sit on something puffy.
If I could kneel on shards of glass and type, I would. I want to suffer (not really, but it sounds impressive when I say that).
And so, instead of getting me a chair I would not like, he got me the Tush-Cush so that I might have just a bit more comfort. And I have to say that–even though it vaguely resembles a hemorrhoid ring–it is fabulous. Everyone who sat on it thinks so (and that included everyone who was at my house on Christmas day–there was much jockeying for who would be next on the Tush-Cush).
I love my Tush-Cush (and I love saying Tush-Cush). Tush-Cush. Tush-Cush. Tush-Cush.