I’m ashamed to admit how old the couch is, but let’s just say it already had a lot of mileage on it back when it was in my older brother’s fraternity. It’s seen things.
Believe me, I would have replaced it a long time ago, but with a Pit Bull that sleeps on it, loves to knock the cushions off it, and uses it as a giant napkin every time he finishes dinner, I was in no rush.
But lately, I worried I’d come home to find a Fabreeze commercial being shot in my living room, so I went out and bought a nice, new couch, and it’s being delivered tomorrow. Ricky gets one last night on the old one, and then it’s going the way of bulky-item pickup.
Lots of good memories. I slept on that couch many times. (Which is odd, because I’m not even married.) The makeout sessions. The great movies and TV I watched while sprawled out on it. It’s the end of an era. A lumpy, slobbery, threadbare era.
