A couch. I never thought a couch could be the worse thing to deal with in my house, but it was.
Please note, I live with children (including a man child), two dogs, around 8 cats on any given day. I also have a family who knows where I live. To say that a couch is the worse thing to deal with in my house is really something.
This couch was awful. It would suck up anything you laid on it. It was like the blob, even the same color of the blob I think, going around just sucking everything up. Blankets, pillow, paperwork, remotes, cell phones, toys, & a lotto ticket from April 2005...those are just a few of the things you'd often find. If something went missing in this house, Adam & I would always groan & say, "check the couch." And it wasn't as easy as moving a cushion. It was a couch that had recliners on each end. So it was basically a big, empty hole that you couldn't even get to if you wanted. Of course my favorite thing was when I was sitting on it, the cats would crawl into it from the back & claw at my ass. Yes, seriously.
I decided I wanted a new couch. I wanted something that fit our needs a little better (you try having a leather couch with pets & see what can happen to it), & something that wasn't the color of the blob. Oh, & something I could sit on without worrying that everything in my pockets would end up in it's core.
We found ourselves at a furniture store at 7pm a couple weeks ago, looking. We wanted something nice. Something not easily destroyed. And something brown. Not ugly brown though, just a nice brown to tie in the general theme of our house & something our son wouldn't stain with god only knows what in a weeks time.
We sat on every single couch in the store. I didn't want one that felt cheap & would feel like it would hold up. We actually narrowed it down after about an hour, but the woman who was suppose to help us was busy. She was walking to & from the office. And then she walked by again when she said she'd be right back to help us, & she said she needed to talk to some guy. We looked & it appeared she was giving him a job interview. Yes, seriously.
Eventually we find something we like & the woman wonders over since it's close to closing time & she finally has time for us. We tell her what we want, I asked if it would need ordered & she said it'd take 2 or 3 days to come from their storage facility but they could deliver it on Friday. This was Wednesday night. I didn't do the math just then, but I'll get to that shortly.
I go to pay for our loveseat & couch. The fact that we're getting a loveseat alone is an upgrade, since before we just had a couch & a chair. Adam & I would have our own couches basically. Awesome. Since we waited so long, they had already shut their credit card system down, so she had to call in my card to charge it to my account. Then she made me listen to it over & over, to make sure she was writing the code down correctly. It was...something.
Once home I realized that I really didn't think they could get it in & deliver it to us by Friday, but I took her at her word. Until Thursday morning, of course, when at 9:01am when my phone woke me up. I didn't answer it, but they left message. It was a guy at the furniture store, who was very clearly calling me while he was nom'ing his breakfast. I could just picture the food falling out of his mouth. I think I heard it land on the counter. His message was a very professional, "Um yeah, this is The Pig from the furniture store...you're suppose to get a delivery tomorrow *nom nom nom*, but, uh, that's been changed. Ummm...we have to...uhhh...like...um. *nom nom nom* We have to get like a shipment in for our own stock, yeah, that's it. And because of that, they can't bring your stuff in until next week. So we'll bring it Tuesday. *nom nom nom* Alright!"
I hoped he wasn't the one bringing my couch & loveseat at that point. Of course this made sense the more I thought about it. At 9pm on Wednesday, it was going to take 2-3 days to get to them. So...Friday was not the right day to try to have it delivered. The kooky woman just had no idea what she was saying.
We continue to wait. Really it's fine because while I like new things, I hate dealing with them. I hated the thought of moving stuff out & getting rid of it & I hated the thought of strangers coming to the house with me & a toddler home alone. Like I really want hardwood in the living room, but I don't want to deal with the hassle of actually moving things, installing it, then moving things back. I don't mind getting from point A to point C...it's point B, the actual work involved, I've got a problem with.
Monday at 5:50 I asked Adam if I should call the store. We were told they'd call the day before & let me know what time they'd be delivering. Since it was almost 6, I was getting paranoid I wouldn't get a call. So I called, explained the situation, & I was told "Well, we don't call until 6pm to let people get home from work...I can tell you, but since it's before 6pm, it may change."
Please remember at this point it was 5:55. I don't think someone was going to come in & buy something in the next 5 minutes that they have in stock & that they want delivered the next day. If they do, I'm jealous that I spent 2 hours waiting on Grandmother Time to finish the job interview. So she tells me they are set to be at our place between 10:30am & 1:30pm.
I can live with that.
Next up, we decide to post our chair & the couch that steals your soul up on craigslist for free, just to get them moving. People call quick. Adam talks to someone who wants the chair & the couch. Great. He ask me if 9or 9:30 is alright. It's like 6:30, I'm thinking he means that night so I say it's fine. I go about my life. I then hear him saying, "Well, I won't be home but my wife will..." which sends me into panic mode. I start flailing my arms & shaking my head "NO!" until he ask them to hold on. I get the clarification from him that they did mean 9am. Which means me, home alone, pregnant, with strangers in my house from craigslist? My ad said "free couch" not "come kill me & cut my baby out of my stomach."
Yes, I worry about those things.
So he shoots them down, tells them they can come after he gets off at work. They say OK, they'd call him the next day.
I'm not holding free things, btw. If someone else can come before morning, they could have it. We get another call from a woman who wants the chair. Tells us she'll be at our house in like 40 minutes. Alright.
While waiting on her, Adam vacuums the living room. With my $400 dyson. I love my dyson. If we ever get a divorce, he can have everything but my dyson. After 15 seconds of using it, I hear this dreadful noise. I say, "Please tell me you didn't break the belt." I guess he misheard because he then says, "I broke the belt."
He could have picked up one of my cats & punched them in the face & it would have hurt me less.
I cry. Hysterically. Tell him how he has always wanted to kill my dyson & he wasn't even to think about my dyson ever again.
Our 40 minute girl never shows up...until over an hour later when Adam is heading out to Wal Mart to buy a cheap vacuum so I can at least pretend my couch is going to sit on a clean area. Actually, someone else called wanting the couch & chair, & said "if we can get gas money, we'll come." That, of course, broke my heart & I wanted to take them the couch, chair, & $20 because that's what I'm like. But then I realized I can't really strap a couch to my Passat roof, so I move on & try to forget my sadness. I go back to plotting Adam's death to avenge my dyson's death. It's only fair.
He gets back. We promptly watch TV. Around 11:30, we begin the process of getting rid of the couch. But first, we had to fight it. We had to fight it to regain any thing we owned that it'd sucked into it's angry core.
This, my friends, is my epic couch battle.
OK, it's not mine, it's the husbands. I just watched & took pictures. That's my job, you know.
The husband, wasting no time for the first time in his life, quicky flipped it on it's side. Murphy the puppy took up hiding under it.
Our first find was something for the dogs.
Bones. Alot of bones. The couch must like to chew as much as the dogs do, because we find no less than 6 of those things in the couch.
Adam finally realizes I'm taking pictures. He's thrilled.
He found a phone book. We've not had a phone in ages. I don't even know how to use a phone book. Isn't that was the internet is for? And I have no idea why it's toddler size.
I decided to be brave. Not for myself, but for others. Other people who live in a house of horror. I bravely took a picture of UNDER my couch. *sigh*
I AM NOT A PIG! I don't care what the couch says, I am NOT a pig, nor do I live in filth. The couch, on the other hand, did. Not my fault.
So now you can all either feel good about how much better than me you are, or you can know you aren't alone in having a mess under your couch.
Adam then handed his pregnant wife...
If you remember nothing else about me in this world, remember I love sweet tarts. I can eat about 800 of them in a day & even then, I'm having to pace myself. I actually asked Adam, "So....think I can eat them?" And yes, I was serious.
It's really kinda like a drunk, an addiction I'll go to any length I have to in order to get that high known as sweet tarts.
But I enventually come to my senses, realizing I had now idea how long they'd been there or what they'd been through. Of course look down I realized...
do I really want to eat candy that came from under the couch that STOLE TIGERS TAIL?!
In a more cheerful find, look, a cat ornament.
...I have no idea where that came from.
Maybe I can ask Bert.
If Bert, you know, didn't look like a serial killer.
WTF happened to Bert?!
Adam went on cleaning it with the cheap ass Wal Mart vacuum.
It made a lovely sound...it sounded like an angry bee hive. It reminded me that even though I felt like a jackass paying $400 for a vacuum, my Dyson was totally worth it.
Can you tell how much I love my Dyson?
Anyway, Adam continued to give the couch a prostate exam.
He found more random things.
Look, an antelope*!
*I make no guarantees this creature is an antelope, it's just a guess. I was a psychology major, not a fucking animal-ogogist. I know nothing about it unless it has a personality disorder, than I can help you out.
We found several tubes of my chap stick.
Right behind sweet tarts, I use chap stick. I go through tubes of chap stick like a porn star...ummmm...insert something crude, yet funny here. I've drawn a blank on something funny yet original. But I use alot of it. Trust me. We found more, like 5 tubes I think. Adam hates me & my chap stick. Now I kinda see why.
We also discovered the secret of where all the nail clippers go.
Into the cote of the evil couch. We go through those like I go through chap stick. It's scary, we have enough that I think it'd be considered a weapon if we carried that many on us anywhere.
We* continued searching the couch.
*We meaning Adam, while I took pictures & said such supportive things like, "why can't you hurry this up?!"
Then he found something.
He fought the evil core of the couch to rescue whatever it was.
I'm not use to seeing this part of delivery. I'm not one of those women who wants to have a mirror placed between their legs to watch something emerge. This experience reminded me why.
Scared we're going to try to pull a cat out of his ass for humor sake.
Of course it only got more fun for the husband. No, we didn't pull a cat out of his ass. But he had to then remove the couch from our living room onto our porch.
That's right folk, we were officially white trash for a night, with a couch on our porch. Yeehaw.
He had actually said earlier that "we" could handle it. I reminded him that I had a womb-mate growing inside of me, along with being weak in general, while laughing hysterically at him thinking I'd help move a couch. Doesn't he remember who he married?
So he managed it.
And managed it.
Murphy made a fun game, running outside on one side, around the couch, then back into the house on the other side of the couch.
Adam may have been complaining during this time, I'm not sure. I was looking around planning my* next house adventure.
*My meaning what I'll decide to make Adam do while I take pictures & complain he's not doing it fast enough.
Finally though, he was able to wrestle the couch outside. He took a nap.
I then asked him to take this toy upstairs.
I should have got a picture of him when I asked. He almost threw himself in the floor because I wanted him to carry plastic upstairs. You'd think I asked him to carry the couch upstairs. Cry baby.
Of course, it got better. Because the next day we* had A SNOW DAY!
*We meaning Adam, which means I had a sleep in day.
So I didn't have to deal with delivery people. Yay!
But I got my couch.
And my loveseat.
And Adam got to watch people carry furniture up two sets of steps in a snow storm. Good thing it was him, I may have taken pictures & had angry furniture men on my hands.
Jules is staying classy with his mini-couch, covered in Toy Story characters.
Side note...Buzz Lightyear, I hate you. Stop stalking & hunting me.
So I have nice furniture that won't steal my belongs. I can't wait to find people I don't hate that live locally so I can invite them over to sit on it. And someone came & got the couch that night. So we were only white trash for like a day. Now I get to yell at pets for trying to mess up my couch & not allow Adam to eat in the living room since he's too messy. I let my toddler eats in the living room, so that really says something about the husband I think.
Speaking of things about the husband...before someone tells me it wasn't his fault the Dyson broke, let me tell you another part of this. Like 2 days after this, he went to use the cheap Wal Mart vacuum since we were still waiting on our Dyson part. HE BROKE THAT BELT, TOO! Part of me wanted to lift that 4lb piece of crap & knock him over the head with it. Two vacuums break the same way in 2 days? That doesn't even happen to me & that's really saying something.
Jeesh. Thankfully my Dyson is fully functional again.
And no worries, no cats were harmed in the making of his post.
However, if you try to eat in this house, do NOT turn your back. The couch stole everything but food...the cats are around to steal that.