My parents overheard me telling a friend how I came to have a colorful child-size chair:
My father bought it for me while he was in the Navy where he got shot. He ducked; the bullet missed killing him but he was wounded in his stomach and lived.
I wasn’t punished because it was so outrageous.
A colourful chair deserve a colourful creation story.
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I love that.
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I trust this was during your childhood?
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Haha, yes it was.
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Test
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Ignore the preceding enigmatic comment: I can’t comment on someone else’s blog so was testing things here.
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Love it.
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Laughing now.
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