I am in love.
I suppose it's a deviant kind of love.
It is an inanimate object after all. It's big, it's black, it's rectangular ... to touch it is to caress it, to stroke it is to fan fantasy ... yes, it's frankly, sexy. Who knew that such passions would be provoked the moment I opened the package.
When I first got my power wheelchair, I was assisted by an OT who brought along a wheelchair company guy. She was great, he ... well, he could use some work. From the moment I got the chair I reported that the cushion just didn't cut it. After only a short time sitting in the chair I was in pain. I learned to buck up and just deal with it. I felt horrible complaining, the government did help me buy the chair after all. Even so, I reported the problem, they sent me another cushion, exactly like the first one. I got the impression - here's cushion, now shut up.
So, I went on line and started searching for cushions that can take, um, a big bum, you know a cushion that can work under pressure. I ordered myself one. It arrived in this huge box, 4 or 5 times the size of the cushion. Maybe I'm the only one who thought it odd that a cushion came so well, um, cushioned. I mean, it's not like it's breakable, it's a cushion.
Well, that's what I thought at first.
And then ...
then ...
I sat on it.
Now I understand the packaging, I've offered it a special place in my heart. I've given a promise that I will never, ever, fart while on the chair.
At least for the first few dates.
6 comments:
I apparently have an injured brain, semi mobile but c.r.a.f.t. And am madly in LOVE of a form not dissimilar to your own with an object.
I have fallen deeply for the concept of using GPS Photo Loggers as a means to remind me of where I have been, "visually" whats more!
I brought a cheap GPS receiver as a try out, always had to have the notebook computer with me and turned on, not that portable but I know exactly where my house is!???!!.
Wife ordered me a new one today, self contained logger that you connect to the puter when you get home and I promise not to, ever, drop it in my coffee. or hopefully not out it down anywhere.
sorry "Not PUT it down anywhere"
Oh Dave, you just made me laugh out loud! My husband says that the difference is between love and dating is that you can fart in bed, so as your new cushion caresses your bum in a feast of love I think it will understand the occasional sweet nothings whispered from your derrier!
Comfort is something we sometimes take for granted, but there is no denying it when enveloped in something soft and snuggly or silky and clean. I am pleased for your bum's new companion and suspect your days will be filled with a little more bounce, because the seemingly "little" things can be oh so important. Happy sitting!
You are so funny...and, that last bit about promising never to fart on it sounds like something my hubby would say. The only difference is his love affair is with our egg crate magnet infested mattress pad.
A perfect cushion can make a huge difference. The thick ones won't fit in my scooter (they throw the other dimensions off and I can't reach the tiller and my feet don't reach the platform)--so I may have to move to a wheelchair because of it. This process has been sl--oo--www! But the cushions themselves--just sitting o them in a regular chair--blissful, big difference.
I'm in love with a cushion but the odds are against the relationship working out with this one.
I would love to know what kind of cushion it is -- my wheelchair is currently making my pain worse. Or, a story about how you found your perfect cushion would be lovely.
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