The Barcalounger of her love

It started off innocent this morning, the lady Diane was tired of me ragging on her about not reading one of my top 3 favorite works of fiction so about 6:30 in the a.m. she tracked me down (on the patio with my morning cuppa tea) and said "Ok, where is that damn book you want me to read?" I leapt into our makeshift library and pulled it out and she plopped down into her favorite reading chair (an over-stuffed leather recliner in front of the garden window). With nary a break (ok one quick break to munch down a chocolate brownie) and this afternnon I find her sitting at the kitchen table still reading that book. As I walk through the kitchen I say "why are you sitting in that kitchen chair, it is so not comfortable?" The lady Diane, without looking up from her book says "I was afraid I would fall asleep in the comfy chair before I was able to finish the book so I am sitting in this chair to make sure I stay awake until the end" So, I say "have you always been a masochist? and she answers quickly with "Well yeah" so I retort back at her with "so is that why we are together?" and she replies "no, actually I think of you as the Barcalounder of my declining years."