Wednesday, 30 April 2014

Ode to a cream coloured couch

It was indeed love at first sight. You were lying there, all sparkly and virginal.  Hardly touched by human hands. Your crisp appearance was accentuated by your deep red accessories. 'Stain resistant', she said. 'You just zip off the covers to wash in the machine', she said. So smitten by your loveliness, I wanted you there and then. I needed you. My brand new apartment with my brand new boyfriend was furnitureless (Have I just invented a new word ??). I needed somewhere to sit, or lie, with afore mentioned brand new boyfriend.  I couldn't wait to get you home (the couch, not the boyfriend). And so you came into my life.  Twelve whole years ago now.  The more time I spent with you, the more that I loved you. We had many happy times, didn't we ? We looked well together. So many photos of you and me, you and cute kids, you and our many visitors. Sometimes, you, me and my new boyfriend, doing bold things together.

Then we had to move on. Our relationship became claustrophobic. We needed space. So we moved to Poppy Cottage. Thing is though, that we got an acre, but there wasn't as much room for you. But we loved you all the same. We made arrangements, so that you would fit right in.

If anyone were to ask me where it all went wrong, I would say two words 'Boil Wash'. Yessireee. So much for the effortless laundering of the covers – Unzippping them was one thing, but putting them back on required training in tantric yoga. I don't even think it was a boil wash, maybe 60C, to shift the stains from the 'stain resistant' covers. The stains may have shifted, but the covers also shrunk.

But I still loved you. Your fine wide frame meant that two adults could sleep on it comfortably. I wish I had a guest book of all the visitors who you warmly embraced. Late night movies, cuddling up together. And if we feel asleep together, who cared ? Those times in the middle of the night when you supported me and my restless infant babies.  Your warm embrace.

The zips on your cushions broke and I had to stitch you back together after each wash. And eventually, the stains became permanent. I could blame the children. I think they loved you too, but they didn't appreciate how vulnerable you were and how much more vulnerable you would become without the TLC that you once received.

Then our dog arrived last September. It was then that our relationship really started to deteriorate. I know you did your best to resist his mucky paws, but it was futile.  Despite my best efforts, doggy decided to sleep with you every night. Let's face it though, you had lost your looks at that stage. I was finding it hard to look at you.  I started to cringe when we had visitors. I did try to help you – looking at options to make you look better.  But do you know how much upholsterers cost these days ? The final straw came a few weeks ago.  Hubby decided to wash you, but to soak you first in bleach. A lot of bleach. Your poor covers are not the better of it, with fabric thinning here and there. Clean, but certainly not a good look.

So now, dear Cream Coloured Couch, you must go.  In fact you must go tomorrow.  The lure of a new, shiny leather couch from Harvey Norman was too much. Besides, HN was willing to give interest free credit over three years.  I feel a sense of loyalty to you, but come tomorrow morning – you are out on your ear. I don't even know where you are going. The lawn will have to do for now.  Goodbye dear couch.  May you find love again.

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