TA DAAA........ My Dream Couches

After purchasing our first home, I had images of grandeur about what I was going to do with the house. Big Screen T.V., leather couches, art work, remodeling, blah, blah blah. Then the first mortgage came, we needed another vehicle, car problems, medical bills, and basically the reality that all those fun things weren't going to happen for a loooooooong time set in. humph. So the living room sat empty for a couple years. Our house was the happening house for anyone under the age of 5. There was just so much room to do anything they wanted, like a white canvas and nobody cared what happened.

Then one day Uncle Quin came up with an offer I wanted to resist but couldn't. He was purchasing his dream couches and was wondering if I wanted his old ones. I didn't want to say "No" for several reasons: 1. I didn't want to hurt his feelings; 2. I knew the history of these old couches; 3. I didn't have couches; and 4. Old couches are better than no couches. So I said "sure."

After a year of having these wonderful pieces of furniture, they look exactly the same. These are the only items I own that have ever, ever, ever been able to withstand 3 very active, rambunctious, dirty, stinky, happy, little boys. Things have happened to these couches I don't ever want to repeat and you would never be able to tell. And I don't worry one bit about it. If I had my fancy, new, expensive couches I would be freaking out every time the boys came around because I know they haven't bathed in days and their nails haven't been clipped in weeks, and someone's wearing a very full and droopy diaper that needs immediate attention but won't be getting any for another couple hours. (Nah, I'm exaggerating. My kids aren't that neglected .)

So it turns out that my dream couches really aren't the ones I was imagining three years ago but the ones grandma and grandpa Ericson bought 50 plus years ago and reupholstered to this cool, 60s fabric that has withstood the test of time and my boys.