Tuesday, January 31, 2012


I have never, in my whole life, had an extraordinary couch.

When I was little, we obtained our plaid, flannel couch from a neighbor who was getting rid of it. Clare and I spent countless hours watching Full House and Roseanne on that couch. Painting our nails and lapping up heaping index fingers full of betty crocker icing, straight out of the can, which was to be hastily hidden under the couch when we heard dad's footsteps coming down the stairs. Because the parentals wouldn't notice it missing from the pantry at first, and probably wouldn't vacuum for atleast a week. The foamy cushions of that couch were trampolines, shields, garbage cans, fortress walls and napkins (sorry, mom).

Then we had the nice couch, with the flower upholstery, that we really only sat on when company came over. Or that mom put her purse on while getting ready to leave the house.

When we moved from our brick Rodger's Forge row house to the farmhouse that my parents live in now, we got rid of the couch all together. For my last few years of high school, we didn't have a couch from which to watch E! True Hollywood Stories. The TV room was an awkward, narrow room and logistically, a couch wouldn't even work well in there. Which was a convenient excuse, mom and dad, for not getting a couch. We do have an amazing recliner chair. It is called The Chair. Then there is The Other Chair. And of course, the floor. Usually we Andersons ate together at the dinner table, but sometimes we decided to eat together and watch TV. So, we would call dibs on the aforementioned positions. Inevitably though,  Clare and I would wind up on the floor, nesting on yoga bolsters in fleece blankets.

Until this fall, Zach and I have owned functional or attractive furniture, but never attractive, functional, and comfortable all at the same time. Well, we got a new couch and let me tell you, she is really the whole kit and kaboodle. I have just, for the first time in my life, come to realize the glory of couch relaxation time. Like sink in and not want to go anywhere for a long time. And then do just that. Bring the computer, get the cat, all of the remotes, a book, make a snack for later and fill up a big water bottle. Move in.We got the couch this fall (in preparation for winter), hand selected for depth, support, and comfiness. We also bought it from a couch store. That was a first. (note: couch stores being weird places is another discussion all together)

 I love my couch and I am not sorry for sitting on it on a Friday night. You can come over and sit on it too if you want.

1 comment:

  1. While I'm thrilled that you are finally experiencing this wonderful aspect of life, I also can't help but to feel very sad for you that you have gone 27 years without knowing it.