>Ooh! New furniture.
>As many of you know or may have guessed, I’m not really the most materialistic person in the world. So when my husband expressed displeasure in our current living room set, otherwise known as The Futon, I just let him figure things out. I sincerely hate shopping for pretty much everything that isn’t edible.
We ventured out to Ikea and tried every couch they had and came out without a couch. It was a long drawn out affair that involved children flinging themselves across couches and beds, eating Swedish meatballs and Lingonberries, and marching around the entire store TWICE. Needless to say, I considered the couch game over. I filed it under “SO not worth the effort” and moved on.
My husband was not so easily thwarted. He, for reasons that I don’t know, called the futon “The Fart Sack” and had no intention of giving up the search. Last Sunday, he hit the furniture jackpot. I was busy stuffing my face full of Five Guys’ burgers and fries. He was perusing the weekend edition of Tampa’s TBT and casually eating. Suddenly, he saw an ad for a one day furniture sale. Unfortunately, that one day was Saturday. I said that it was too bad that we missed it and went back to the face stuffing.
Note: My husband and I are similar in that if we know what we want we will find a way to make it happen. His thing is apparently furniture. My thing is generally cat related.
We finished lunch and headed over to see the Scott Pilgrim vs. The World. (It was AWESOME.) When the movie ended we searched Westshore Plaza for Ice Cream. Alas, they had none. (Seriously, what self respecting mall doesn’t have ice cream? Really?!) We decided to head back to the car.
When we got to the car, I found myself sitting in a started car in billion degree Florida weather while my husband, once again, perused the paper. I gave him my “Are you serious?” face. He gave me his “I’m always serious” face. He decided he would not give up on the couches. He began to call the local stores to find out if they still had any. I called my mother to pretend this wasn’t happening and hoped this furniture storm would pass us by. One of the stores called us back. They had one set left. My husband whipped the vehicle across two lanes of traffic and within minutes we were pulling into the big old furniture store of my nightmares. (Okay, I know I’m being dramatic here, but furniture is seriously boring.)
My husband zeroed in on the couch like a man on a mission. He made me sit on it. He made me put my feet up. He tried it out himself. He was sold. I was then told to sit on the couch and not let anyone even dream of purchasing it. This consisted of me taking a mini-nap on the couch while he ran to get an associate. When the associate came they began to discuss the details and I found that I was needed in the restroom. When I emerged some time later, my husband and his sales associate friend were missing. I wandered around the store hoping to find them, but about ten minutes later I ended up asking another associate if she knew where my husband was. Surprisingly, she did. I arrived just in time to hear them finalizing delivery details. While they were handling things I could completely care less about, I found the bed of my dreams. Sure, it’s $4,000, but it was gorgeous. It was a huge 4 poster bed with leaves carved into the columns and a canopy. It looked like something out of a music video or a “Visit Jamaica” commercial. My husband was not in love with the bed, but we don’t have 4K for a bed anyway. A girl can dream.
This morning, our couch and love seat arrived. My husband seems happy, but Obi Wan seems to be happier.