A couple weeks ago, Emily freaked out a little bit when we went to leave the house, because, she said, the crazy pink chair would get her.

She’s talked about this pink chair on and off since then. She’s convinced it’s real, and I’m convinced it was just a strange dream she had. I asked her if she saw it while she was asleep, and she said yes. I tried explaining to her that it was just a dream, that it was in her head and not real. No crazy pink chairs would get her, I promised.

Today, she climbed up into my lap and asked me if I wanted to hear the story about the crazy pink chair, and I said yes.

“Well. (she smacks her lips a bit) It was outside and we got into Grammy’s car and it was following us and..” She paused pensively, smacked her lips, and looked at me. I giggled, and she looked offended.

“Do you want to hear the story or not?”

I burst out laughing, and she sat here in my lap, just looking at me. I tried to compose myself and told her to continue.

“Okay, so. *smack* And it was changing our light bulb. So we were in Grammy’s car and it was following us, and.. mom?”

“Yes?”

“What kind of truck did the chair have?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Exasperated, she sighed, “Chairs can’t drive!”

Again with the peals of laughter. This time, I laughed so hard that it distracted her, and she laughed with me. Then, because she wanted me to laugh more, she kept repeating, “Chairs can’t drive!”

I can’t wait to hear the rest of this story.