Karen and Wendy at http://afterthekidsleave.com/2013/01/28/this-old-couch/ shared their couch story and asked readers to share theirs…..
I’m guessing I am not the only one out there that started marriage with a hand-me-down couch. Ours came from my husband’s older brother and sister-in-law who had stored it while they were stationed in Korea in the late 60’s. We moved it into an upstairs apartment for our first 6 weeks together, then moved it out to the farmhouse where we still live.
It was a huge, tan, softly upholstered couch with a matching chair. The arms of the couch, also upholstered, were wide and looked like wings to me. There was never a need for a pillow on this couch because the arms of the couch were perfect and were slanted at just the right angle to make sleeping simply delightful. It was quite sturdy and was undoubtedly the best couch I have ever owned still to this day.
It stayed with us through 3 children. We had it recovered once, but I always regretted it. The new upholstery was prettier, but not as soft and comfortable. It was the best place to take naps for moms and kids (sometimes at the same time), for watching TV, for reading, for wrestling with a little brother, and even for changing diapers. The orange, brown, and tan ripple afghan that I knitted during college was always thrown over the back or close by.
The years flew by, and finally it was time for the couch to be passed on. Our oldest daughter was attending college and had a small apartment which needed furnished. We reluctantly hauled the couch to her new apartment and barely got it through the door. It took up way too much room in her small one bedroom apartment, but was perfect for a friend to crash on. More time passed, our daughter graduated and moved out of her small apartment. She came home to borrow a pickup truck to move her belongings back home temporarily. I’m not sure how she and a good friend managed to get that couch out of the apartment and into the bed of the pickup, but they did and headed toward home on the 45 minute trip.
When they pulled into the driveway, they started unloading clothes hampers and boxes but there was no couch.
“I thought you were bringing that old couch home,” I began. “Did you find someone who wanted it?” I asked hopefully.
“Well, we got about half way home, and looked back and there was smoke coming out of the couch,” she replied. “So we stopped the truck and dumped it into the ditch. And here we are.”
“You just left it in the ditch?”
“Well, yeah, I mean you didn’t want us to drive down the road with a burning couch, did you?”
Seemed like a perfectly logical explanation, I guess. I thought about heading back that direction to see what had happened, but then decided to let smoking couches lie. It had served its various owners well over the years, and may have ended up on a burn pile out back of the barn anyway.
That’s our couch story. Almost 3 years after I started the story. Some things just get put on the back burner.