the blue couch

My mom moved from Ohio to Idaho when Robs was just a baby. They needed more space in the moving truck, so as it got more and more full, my mom would pull out items she figured she could part with if not everything was going to fit. One of those items happened to be a solid wood awesome square kitchen table. My mom unwillingly put it in the pile. But then apparently a good friend stepped in and explained the facts of life. I wasn't there, but I like to imagine her friend said something like "OH NO YOU DIDNNNN'T!" and then put the table right back in the truck where it belonged. (All by her badself.) I volunteered to keep the table if there's ever a next time she figures she could do without.

Last night the pirates and I were looking at old photos. We saw pictures of our blue couch. At first I kept it slipcovered which was a sin for which I later repented. I loved that couch for the long lines, sturdy frame, and the fact that I purchased it for a screaming deal. I had visions of someday getting it reupholstered. And then moving day came and I gave the couch to a good friend who I figured would use it more than our storage unit. And I'm glad we did, because we don't even have the space for it. But every now and then when I'm feeling antsy for a change of style I find myself searching the classifieds for seating that looks something like our Louisiana blue couch; I think to myself: "OH NO YOU DIDNNNN'T."

I'm sure I'll find another one some day.