The Big Girl Chair, the Spaceship, and the Future

by Sally Matheny

When I began writing in 2010, I waited for the whim to pass. I thought it would be like most of my other hobbies that were tossed aside—cross-stitch, latch hook rugs, even piano. As I learned the writing craft, I made do with an old computer desk, a T.V. tray, and a very uncomfortable desk chair. The chair was my daughter’s, when she was younger. My family encouraged me to get a better chair—a comfortable, adult-size chair.

My response was always that if my work were ever published by one certain publisher, then I would buy myself a “Big Girl” chair. A new chair would be a reward for sticking with it, rather than giving up after the first few snags (a.k.a. rejections). So, I set to work.

Rejections came, and several times I thought perhaps writing was not for me. Every time I thought about quitting, God sent something to encourage me to keep working at it. A few acceptances filtered in but not from the specific publisher I had set as my big goal. My aching back and neck really wanted to meet that goal!

Finally, finally, finally…I received that long-awaited email. I sang out to my family, “I’m going to get my Big Girl chair!”

Like Goldilocks, I skipped into Staples and tested all their chairs.

“Too hard.”

“Too soft.”

“Too expensive!”

Sadly, I left without a chair. Not one of them was just right. I liked the high back chairs better than the low back ones. But the ones I saw were a bit more than what I had expected to pay. I decided to wait, and left empty-handed.  

Staples must have had their eye on me testing out all their chairs. A few days later I got an email:

“HOT DAILY SPECIAL! Save $90 today only!”

I opened the email and behold, it advertised a high back office chair! They didn’t have this one on the floor at my Staples. The price was fantastic and they guaranteed free delivery and free return if I didn’t like it. What did I have to lose?  

I clicked the Staples’ “buy” button. Now, that was easy. (Sorry, I couldn’t resist.) J

Two days later, my chair, well the box with the chair in it, was delivered. My sweet hubby happily began assembling it for me. He loves to put things together (preferably without my help). Standing nearby, I eagerly waited on the chair's assembly.

Our son enjoys creating things as well. Z-man called dibs on the box before we could even get the pieces out of it. While his dad worked on the chair, Z-man wanted to make a spaceship. Z-man, however, likes my assistance.

 




  Under his direction, I cut out wings 
  and a door.














We ran out of duct tape so electrical tape was retrieved. Nothing holds a candle to duct tape. It was quickly added to the next day’s grocery list.
Z-man didn’t want to wait though, so he forged onward.

 

 

 

 

Snags popped up. Hubby put an arm handle on backwards. I mentioned something about reading directions and was quickly dismissed from his work area. Which was fine, because my help was in great demand from the budding astronaut, oops, I mean Galactic Spaceship Commander.

 

The Spaceship

We added firepower.
To show his appreciation for all my hard work, Z-man tested his firepower on me.











Then he installed an awesome control panel that does amazing things, but that’s classified information.

Soon, we were also testing out my new, Big Girl chair! Z-man and I were having fun rolling down the hallway until we were told we might be scratching the floors. (This came from the man who worked so hard to install them).

The chair was carried upstairs to the study (a.k.a. Z-man’s homeschool room). I tested it out and loved the high back. Remembering something we had tucked in the attic three years ago, I jumped up to go look for it.

The Big Girl Chair

I found the electronic back massager, strapped it on the chair, and plugged it in. Smiling, I told my hubby, “As Phil Robertson says, ‘Now, we’re cooking in peanut oil.” (I don’t know why peanut oil is so special, but this phrase has latched on at our house!)

I sit down and write for a bit, thanking God all the while for the more comfortable chair. Later, I head downstairs. After dodging incoming fire from the Blue Raider spaceship, I find my husband and thank him again for his help with the chair.

“You got your Big Girl chair. What’s your next goal?”

“Hmmm…how about a Big Girl desk? I’m almost ready to get rid of the T.V. tray,” I said, grinning.

Here's to the Future

 

Z-man chimes in, “Whatever you do, we’re never going to get rid of this spaceship, ever, okay?” 

Knowing one day he’ll outgrow it (and possibly upgrade his current ship to one that is desk size), I simply shout, “To the future and beyond!”