Of all things to get weepy about…

Today was a day, like many other Saturdays, where the ‘To Do’ list far surpassed the amount of hours we had to actually DO it. Some people call that frustrating, but we take it on as a challenge. Kenny came into our room at the ungodly weekend hour of 6:30 am and that pretty much jump started the day.

I’d go into details about our daily list, but it bores even me to think about it, so I feel the need to spare you, my sweet, sweet, readers.

What I will share is our hope to make one very old couch last forever. Don’t believe me? Well, let me see if I can prove it to you.

Circa 1976 I was a cute little brunette in pigtails. In fact, I was the cute little girl photographed below. Me and my parents are sitting on the love-seat that matches the couch IN MY LIVING ROOM today. It has been recovered since then, though I imagine if it weren’t it’d really be stylin’.

Now, a while back I was flirting with the idea of recovering it, because of a certain hairy creature who saw fit to tear into the back right corner.

As the days moved along things got in the way and the couch remains covered in the same green wool, with the same squeaky back, loose spring and lots and lots of nubbies – my personal nickname for those frustrating balls that seem to make their way across any well-worn wool object.

So anyway, Mr. OMSH and I have been talking about fixing the couch and putting on new legs, so we flipped the couch over on its side for a look-see. The flip revealed a treasure trove of dust bunnies, dry pieces of dog food, popcorn, a few Legos, hair squinchies, 2 marbles, and even some wet (as in, recent spillage) chocolate milk on the floor. Niiiiiiice.

After cleaning all that up, and vacuuming the couch thoroughly, we trimmed off the bottom liner (Why in the world are there liners on the bottom of sofas and armchairs? To collect dog hair maybe?) and Jeff set about to fix the squeak and the loose spring.

I’d like to mention here that Mr. OMSH actually does own shirts without holes in the armpits, but for some reason every time I need to snatch a shot of him working, he has selected a holey shirt. I guess that’s his way of keepin’ it real for y’all.

He ended up fixing the loose board in the frame that was causing the squeaking, and thanks to his handy-dandy staple gun, was able to fix the loose spring too. Next, we have to find legs to replace the current ones, which sounds easy – I know, but remember, this couch is OLDER THAN ME.

Take a moment to process that.

Old.

Now, for those of you thinking I should go ahead and get a new couch, you’ve no idea how much I love this couch. It is looooooooooong. Mr. OMSH can lay across it without bending his knees. It is deep and makes a nice bed for when we’re fighting and I send him to the couch. Oh wait, I’m usually the one that gets emotional and goes to the couch. Whatever…its a great sleeping couch.

This couch has also helped me prop-up and sleep through multiple pregnancies, this couch has healing powers, this couch shares secrets from my childhood (No, I’m not gonna tell you what those are, but get your mind out of the gutter.), this couch matches two orange chairs sitting in the same room (I know, I’m so many kinds of groovy with my orange chairs), its great for daytime naps and folding or holding laundry, and most especially for snuggling together to watch movies. I like the simple lines of this couch. In fact, if it were recovered, it’d look like a couple of the couches I’ve seen in the IKEA catalog – except it isn’t recovered and has an actual wooden (not particle board) frame.

And honestly, how can I ever get rid of a couch my children used to do window dances and marches in while waiting for their daddy to come home from work.

I can’t.
Not.just.yet.
Even if it does have a large chocolate milk stain under the middle seat cushion.