Awww. Uuuhh. You might notice that I am not in my polka-dot chair. That's correct. The polka-dot chair is my chair. I said that right away when I moved in here and made it a condition of my lease agreement. Someone who shouldn't be in the polka-dot chair is. Reading her book: crime, spy, mystery: I don't know. I do know they are books I'm not fond of. But - BUT - the minute she puts it down, like to go get a coke, or a snak or such, I will jump into that chair and she'll have to sit in this one! That's why I'm keeping a watchful eye out. At least until it's time for her to get one of "my books". Then we will sit in the polka-dot chair together and she will read me a bedtime story. From a book I am fond of, like Dr Seuss or Shel Silverstein poems, books I like. And I like being in the polka-dot chair. Together. And then we'll go to bed. Together.