The Tale of my Manky Old Sofa

Beat up old couch has
Viewed many things good and bad
What will new couch see?

Since his 2001 purchase from Jordans Furniture (a rather strange New England megastore that offers popcorn, daily Mardi Gras parades and an Omni theater), my Big Green couch has been with me through three moves, six housecats (no, autocorrect, I have no housecoats), two corgis, five publishers, fifty novels, three literary agents, a breakup, dating, true love, a wedding, a baby, and approximately two thousand frozen pizzas. 

In the next week or so, he will go on Facebook and Craigslist as "Big old beat to hell sectional couch plus ottoman, free for the taking. Cushions all have newer (3 years) removable slipcovers from Pottery Barn. Fifteen years old, one owner, exposed to cats, dogs, salad dressing and general chaos. L-shaped, 102" per side, very comfortable, especially if you've got your eyes closed. Possibly suitable for Great Danes, teenagers, frat parties, maybe a game room? You decide. Free. Must pick up, and our driveway doubles as a ski jump. You can keep whatever you find under the cushions."

Because, you see, Monster Brown is on the way.

As part of our 'being actual grownups with a budget and sh*t' protocol, Arizona and I each get a set amount of fun money per month. His usually goes to mountain bike parts, while I tend to spend some of mine on clothes and girls' nights out, and set aside the rest for some future purchase. I had planned on splurging on a dude ranch vacation for two this summer or the next, but now that'll be put off a few more years until Wallaby is old enough to enjoy the adventure and I'm relatively sure that he won't start lobbying for a pony. 

Meanwhile, over the past year I have spent an inordinate amount of time on the couch, what with pregnancy making it far more comfortable to write in the living room than at a desk, and now a little one to feed and entertain while sneaking in some writing. And did I mention that the living room is one of the two rooms we routinely heat, along with Arizona's office, and this winter has been flipping cold? Ergo, I have logged lots of miles on Big Green, and have finally been forced to admit that my once super comfortable friend is less so these days.

Mind you, he's been fugly for a while--stained, clawed-up and smooshed down, with a not very well done replacement cushion on the ottoman and wearing blue slipcovers made of an outdoor fabric that I bought for its durability and stain resistance, not realizing it would have the cuddle factor of sandpaper and produce friction burns at inopportune moments. 

Still, Arizona and I had planned on keeping Big Green another few years, until Wallaby and the puppy-to-be-acquired-at-a-later-date are both housebroken. That is, until the other day, when Arizona joined me to feed Wallaby on the basement pull-out-bed couch for a change of scenery--and even though Downstairs Couch was relatively inexpensive and primarily serves as our guest bed, we both confessed that we found him more comfortable than Big Green. Which, we decided, meant it was time.

Thus on Saturday, after doing the necessary measurements and online research, and assuring my hubby that I really consider buying a new couch *fun* and thus don't mind using my fun money for the purchase, seeing how our house money is currently tied up with hospital bills from Wallaby's arrival (high deductible plan, 'nuff said), the three of us hied off to Bob's Discount Furniture (which lacks the carnival atmosphere of Jordans, but is rather less spendy) to test drive sectionals. And then on Sunday, we rearranged the living room in anticipation of Monster Brown's arrival in a week or so, looking forward to having a new piece of furniture that's all the same color and doesn't have a single claw mark (yet). 

What will Monster Brown see me through? Will we get fourteen years out of him as I did Big Green? How crazy to think of Wallaby as a teenager, Arizona and I in our mid-fifties. Who will we be then? What will I be writing? Will we have made it to Australia yet? How about that dude ranch? I don't know, as that's all crystal ball stuff. But it's fun to think about … and it'll be even funner next Monday, when I'm doing that thinking from my gel-foam chaise at the end of my fun-money sofa.