Skip to main content

A Tale of Two Couches

My husband and I have had the same hand-me-down set of furniture since we married 7 years ago. I was thrilled to get it. At the time, we watched t.v. from the comfort of an air mattress. The big puffy upholstered furniture with it’s lavender and coral patches was a dream come true.

If that furniture could talk. It’s the place where my nephew slept during weekend visits and where he threw up in the middle of the night and my dear husband soldiered his way through cleaning up an erupting five year old. We snuggled there watching The Simpsons and Seinfeld and countless rented videos that we would later debate about. I’ve written my life story, graded papers, and written essays all from the comfort of the right-side corner. It’s been the stage for some bloody battles and dear conversations. Our infirmary when too sick to stay in the same bedroom for fear of spreading germs. Our therapy room in the wee hours of the morning. Our dining table during the Superbowl and 24 finales. It’s been sneezed on, farted on, cried on, jumped on. And it’s been through 3 different room decors. There’s a lot of life there.

I love my couch…with all it’s cat scratch marks, coffee stains, and butt impressions. It’s still the best seat in the house. I can’t imagine living my life in fear of scuff marks and food stains on my furniture. I lied. Yes, I can, especially when in the middle of consoling someone, I was told to please find somewhere else to sit so I wouldn’t spill anything on the couch. What’s the point of having a comfy place to sit at home if I can’t enjoy eating a bowl of chocolate pudding on it? For one thing, I have enough practice now to be able to eat a bowl of chocolate pudding without spilling it. For another, it’s just a freakin’ couch. This is why God created Scotchguard on the eighth day. He knew after watching us rest that we needed something to protect us from the ravages of livin’ it up.

Real life doesn’t happen in a museum. Life is messy…like chocolate ice cream on a summer afternoon. Sometimes it spills over to the furniture. And sometimes there are more important things to worry about than turning over the couch cushion to hide the punch stain.

Comments

Rebecca Jeffries-Hyman said…
I love this! I thank God for the hand me down couches that made my childhood home a "spillable" place!! I still see that place as the place where I'm loved in spite of my spills.
7:38 AM
frabjouspoet said…
And I thank God that I didn't grow up around plastic covered couches. Ever sat on one?
2:58 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Trying to Keep It All Together

The title of this post is a bit of a misnomer. Just this morning I said, "I'm having a hard time getting it together right now." I'm in one of those periods when showing up is the best I can offer, and I can't even guarantee that. That said, I just popped on here to share that I'm struggling. I'm dealing with a lot of loss right now. Some of it is easy to spot. Some of it I've tucked away because it's either terribly painful or terribly embarrassing--at least to me. Some of it was inevitable. Some of it was a surprise. All of it rises up into the center of my chest and begs me to stop for a moment to acknowledge it. It's doing that right now even as I type this. I'm having a hard time getting it together right now.
Post a Comment
Read more

Welcome 2010

This has been an interesting beginning to the new year. The evening began with a beer and air hockey challenge, which I handily lost. This was followed with some extreme go cart racing and more beer, a dinner that consisted of leftovers from one of my favorite South Carolina restaurants and homemade fried zucchini. And more beer. I saw "The Hangover" for the fourth time and laughed like an idiot. After the ball dropped in Times Square, I saw pieces of "Public Enemy" and finally crawled into bed around 2:00 a.m. and stayed there until 11:00 this morning. I spent today playing with a dog, watching college football, and hanging out with one of my current favorite people. I don't do the whole new year resolution thing. However, I do believe in taking a look at the lessons I've learned and the experiences that have unfolded for me in the previous year. Anyone who reads this blog can already figure out that my divorce, running, and dating again have greatly influe...
5 comments
Read more

Stalking a Pirate

Prepared we were not to cross Captain Jack's path late in the summer of ten, with the sun bearing down as we wandered the town where the Koreshans once lived. But he nodded. We smiled and went on our way, rolling it all in our heads. We giggled and talked and suddenly stopped to turn back and run after him. You see love for a pirate and sailing the seas rest deep in a gypsy girl's soul, where she dreams of the day he will take her away to find a new place in the world. So we followed his swagger as he wound through the woods and stopped to take in the sights. You know when chance comes to call you must answer with all because sometimes she doesn't seek twice. There we tracked Captain Jack on the seashell lined path and dreamed of the life that he lived With his swashbuckling ways that man made our day late in the summer of ten. You know love for a pirate and an adventurer's life lie deep in a gypsy girl's soul, where she dreams of the world she has yet to explore an...
2 comments
Read more