It wasn’t until dragging our furniture into the yard during our move that I realized our couches looked like they were purchased from a crackhouse garage sale. After years of having the dogs rub themselves along the front, and motionless teenagers planted on the cushions for hours at a time, they were dirty, lumpy and misshapen.
And so were our couches.
After a long discussion about the merits of keeping our old set and the cost of replacing them with a new one, my wife and I decided to go ahead and get rid of our old sofa and love seat. Total elapsed time for this conversation:
That includes the eight seconds we spent covering the couches with a tarp so no one else would see them. Before going to the furniture store, we measured the wall and floor space in the new livingroom to ensure we wouldn’t order the wrong size, and end up having a conversation like this:
Me: Honey, would you like me to grab you a soda from the fridge?
My wife: Only if you’re going to the kitchen.
Me: It’s no trouble. I’ll just scoot to the end of the sofa…
To help us visualize the dimensions of our livingroom space, we used blue painter’s tape to outline the couch sizes we wanted and where they would go. While standing there looking at the blue outlines on the carpet, it struck me that I really need to stop watching so many “CSI” crime shows…
If all goes well, we should be completely moved by the end of the week. Assuming there’s no foul play involved…