We moved the wonderful, fabulous, awesome, smell good couches this weekend (more on that later) and I love, love, love them.
My parents always told me that people don’t appreciate what they don’t pay for. They especially loved using this when I asked for a car. ‘You’ll treat it better if you pay for it yourself!’ was their mantra for all my teenage years. They said it would build strong character.
Whelp mom and dad, just like you lied about Santa, you lied about appreciation.
I’ve had the free couches for two days. So far, I’ve asked three people how recently they’ve showered and screamed at two more for getting their shoes within 3 inches of the ottoman.
‘Ahh!’ I screamed and ran to cover the couch with a towel when my husband attempted to sit.
He looked at me confused, ‘Honey, I just got out of the shower. I’m clean!’
‘I don’t want soap scum or gel on the couches’ I said sheepishly.
He muttered ‘Dear Lord, I’ve married a whack job.’
Have a little mercy on me. It’s the first time we’ve had nice couches. I’m sure I’ll loosen up after a few months *cough* or years *cough* but until then, guests are welcome… they just can’t sit on the sofa.