When the children were young and needed a time out, they were sent to an out-of-the-way place in a corner where they could cool down and ponder their misdeeds. We called it (in a fit of creativity!) … the green chair.

Not a green chair, but the Green Chair, a place of banishment and shame. Cue the Dragnet theme, add the moans and excuses of  misbehaving children. “But Mommy, I didn’t mean to  …” And factor in the exhaustion of a parent trying to write magazine articles while her young children played underfoot.

It’s been years since the green chair held a squabbling, out-of-control preschooler. Now it’s for a different type of confinement. It’s where I sit if I have a deadline or phone interview when I’m working at home; it’s my go-to spot for complete concentration.

I almost never scream and cry there, but I do get something done. In fact, if there wasn’t already a Green Chair … I would have to invent one.