After building a chair, she fell in love with the hammer. The chair was sturdy. The hammer had made the chair. She sat every day in that sturdy chair and loved the hammer more and more for making it.
The hammer loved her back. It sat on the shelf and waited. They built more chairs. The hammer sang with every stroke, pounded faithfully into board after board.
Soon her house was filled with chairs. She kept making them in order to use the hammer and make it happy. But she could only make so many. Soon, chairs filled every corner, their legs tangled like rigid spider webs throughout the house.
She stopped making chairs. The hammer sat on the shelf. Gathering dust.