If after a day of stopping my intended activity to settle arguments, a day of spraying on mosquito spray and rubbing on cortisone, a day of planned activities that didn't go as planned, a day of being treated like I'm unreasonable, ridiculous, despicable, unfair, yes, even a tyrant! A day of picking up letter magnets and scraps of paper and couch cushions and books and play-kitchen fries and string tied around door knobs and scotch tape that comes apart in shreds and socks balled up and tossed behind the furniture rather than be taken to the dirty clothes, After a day like that, I deserve something! I'm thinking a tray of cookies sounds nice . . . and a chaise lounge. A movie, a back rub, a cup of tea and some silence. It is nearly impossible NOT to feel entitled to some luxury after working so hard. That's how life works. Right? Those who work hard earn something? The harder I work, the more I earn? And I have worked very hard. Perhaps the expectation of payment is wh