The PM had the best chair in the house.
She recently went to a wool farm and came home with a big bag of mixed fleece for felting.
Some of the wool was not carded, just dyed so she was going through it, brushing it and picking the little pieces of straw out.
I had been watching by the stairs. She looked so comfortable and warm sitting in the lovely sunbeams. She got up to change the channel on the radio and I acted quick.
"What? You were still sitting here?"
Would she move me or not?
Of course not.
She went to the other, sunless chair.
Thanks PM! She remembers a plaque her Grammie had on the wall.
If you want the best seat in the house, you'll have to move the cat.
I guess she didn't want it that bad.