Spoiled rotten

That's right. I am spoiled beyond all hope, and though I try to dissuade those who love me from continuing with this immense amount of spoilage-- they just won't stop (not that I am really complaining-- I just don't want to turn green and fall apart). But alas, I am out of luck.

My dilemma started in August when my couch started taking people hostage. Yes, you needed a come-a-long to hoist you out. Then mysterious things started happening. My couch became a consumer of socks and other small articles of clothing-- library books too. If I did laundry and forgot about the booby-trapped nature of my couch, I'd have to flip the couch over and dig the socks out. I know you all think I'm kidding, but the sad truth is I actually had to cut a slit in the bottom of my couch so I could dig the socks out (somehow they'd ended up inside it). Then the springs in the couch cushions finally won their freedom and tried to make a run for the living room. This was the last straw I needed new furniture.

All summer I searched for the perfect set. I found plenty that would work, but I had trouble committing to them. You see, I'd fall in love with the colors and the squishiness of the cushions, but I couldn't bring myself to sign the check-- because I knew one thing was true: it would ultimately live in my house with my children. No decent self-respecting piece of high quality furniture should be subjected to the likes of my little girls.

And so, I looked all summer. I measured the length and the width of couches and quaint little chairs all summer and never bought a thing.

My husband came home and discovered that our rug had become two-dimensional and was now flat like a pancake.

Now during this time, a local swanky furniture store was going out of business and was full of deals that were not so great. I'd drooled over just about every couch in the building. Two days before the business closed its doors forever, I asked my husband to please look at this couch and tell me it was the ugliest thing he'd ever seen. I just needed him to say it. Tell me I'm impractical for liking the chairs too-- and the Pakistani handmade rug. tell me its all disgusting and completely unsuited for our house.

What did he do? He bought the whole lot -- and told me I'd have to wait on my 10-year-anniversary ring because I was currently sitting on the money he'd saved up to buy it.

And so, I am feeling completely spoiled-- and now a touch braggy-- I'm sorry about that one, but it is so nice to be able to sit down without getting poked in the tushy.