Daddy has a new desk chair. Burgundy leather, high back, armrests, swivel seat, caster wheels--the kind you can sit in without being seen from behind, until suddenly you whirl around with a white Persian cat in your arms and announce in a Eurotrash accent: "We've been expecting you, Mr. Bond."
The Roc has pulled this kind of surprise on me several times. Today, though, I was in another room when I heard a loud crash. I ran into the office and found The Roc lying on the floor, the chair still swiveling.
"I was spinning in the chair," he explained. "And I span too fast."
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Intelligence is a blessing and a curse.....
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