Here’s a funny story for a dreary Friday.
We had a couch. We got it from my brother-in-law shortly after we moved into our house. He’d had it for several years before that. It was in pretty good shape and fairly comfy. My husband loved that it was long enough for his six-foot-two frame.
Well, thirteen years of dogs and kids had wreaked havoc on its appearance. I’d restuffed the back cushions several times and had to jump on them once a week to return them to some semblance of their original shape, because my fifty-pound dog thought they were a great place to sleep. My husband had the *great* idea of stuffing them with grocery bags, so it crinkled every time you leaned against it. (Yeah, I don’t know either.)
With kids and potty training came a variety of bodily fluids that after a while just couldn’t be cleaned out. An unpleasant aroma lingered.
And I couldn’t wait to get something different. Unfortunately that wasn’t in the budget, so we endured… as the fabric wore holes, and the dog hair collected, and springs sagged.
Then one day we found a new couch on Craigslist!! YAY! YAY! YAY!
The old couch was going to the curb. Well, as soon as the snow melted and we could see the curb again. Happily four months later, that day came. My husband hauled the massive beast out next to the garbage can and slapped the large item sticker on it.
Ten minutes later, two guys and a furniture dolly were hauling it down the street.
Perhaps, in the fresh air, they couldn’t smell the stench??
A month later, we drove past a garage sale around the corner. And behold, our couch was there for sale… for $50!
We had a good laugh. The couch didn’t tempt anyone. It was there each day of the sale with a sign prominently attached to it: Everything must go!
The next week, it was on their curb.
I wonder where this couch will pop up next.