tale of two couches

We have to replace the couches in our living room, so this morning we set out to the mecca of cheap Swedish wares stateside: IKEA. TJ was still sleeping in his stroller, so we registered Nathan for the free hour of childcare Ikea offers and waved goodbye as he was ushered into the playroom. Ten minutes had gone by and Mike and I were already examining the couches when the pager the playroom employee had issued us was going off. As we rushed back to retrieve him, I was fretting what fresh hell I was to face: did he hit someone? Did someone hit him? Did he have an accident? Did he assemble enough kids for a mutiny?

When I arrived to pick him up, I saw him standing by himself. He looked uninterested in the activity swirling around him, but that was it. He was alone. There was no coup forming, no bloody tooth of another child lodged in his arm while he gripped the glass neck of a broken beer bottle. No bullhorn for him to yell, “ATTICA! ATTICA!” The woman emerged and said, “He’s just sad. I tried to get him to play, but he just seems sad.”

Nathan shuffled out and we gained custody again. I rubbed his back, asked him if he was okay. He nodded.

“He’s sad?!” I repeated to Mike as we walked away. “Don’t give my child back because he’s sad! Call us to get him because he broke some kid’s eye socket! I’ll get him if it looks like he’ll Kimbo Slice someone’s ear! NOT BECAUSE HE’S SAD!” Maybe this woman had clinically diagnosed my child in ten minutes. I mean, you can get almost everything at Ikea! But really? My child is sad? He will get over it! He is four! I WAS SAD! I was robbed of an hour!

We didn’t find anything striking at Ikea, so we headed to a different furniture store where Mike fell in love with this monstrosity. He started using strange words in its description like “cool” and “modern,” while I started writing my dissertation-length defense entitled: “HELL TO THE NO.” His claim is that he’s never owned anything cool. He should just buy a leather jacket, not a leather sectional couch that is not kid-friendly. This couch makes my ovaries shrivel.

no

no

This is sectional is perfect. If you have a life partner with whom you spend Sundays visiting Washington wineries and/or the new gourmet cheese shop that opened next to the candle store. You know, right after you’re done planning your themed dinners (Tuscan Delights FTW!), you and your signifcant other can sit on your leather couch, your pristine cream-colored armless chair that has remained in perfect condition because you DO NOT HAVE CHILDREN and your teacup chihuahua doesn’t have the nail length to scratch it up.

ugh

ugh

I don’t like the sharp edge here. I kept imagining what I’m going to tell the emergency room doctor when my child has a gouge in his head that perfect matches this awful, awful corner. We might as well keep the plastic on because that’s the only thing that’s going to keep the blood stains from soaking through the fabric.

perfect for families

perfect for families

This is the sofa and loveseat I prefer. It’s a plush microfiber cover that is warm and inviting. If you zoom in, you can see that Nathan loved it so much, he fell at its feet.

So to save our marriage, we compromised. He would have a sofa configuration of his leather life partner sectional and I would have my All in the Family sofa. These two will sit across from each other in our living room, each feeling more superior than the other.

How is it in your house? Do your aesthetics clash with your significant other’s? Or do your tastes mesh, so when one person loves fish, your whole house turns into the set of Finding Nemo?

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Comments

  1. My boyfriend and I have had the biggest fights of our whole relationship over DECORATING. There was once a very heated number where both parties had to go to separate rooms over the framed photos in our home.

    I feel better knowing you struggled to find a couch you both like.

    And I think that might make me a raging bitch.

    Oops.

  2. I am so not cool enough to own Mike’s dream couch. Oh Momoko Chan, one day I hope to grow up and be just like you – you know, owning your own home and stuff. For now, we will continue to fund our house like it was our own, but almost everything in it belongs to someone else. And the “decorating”? Yeah, this house clearly does not belong to us. My mother might be going to Guam next month. Maybe I should surprise her when she returns.

  3. Thankfully we’re pretty much on the same wavelength. And by that I mean my Husband couldn’t give a crap so as long as I don’t come home with anything looking like it’s been covered with leftover stripper fabric we’re good.

  4. Compromise? What’s that? It’s all about who can throw the biggest temper tantrum to get the other one to cave.

  5. Vahid usually just lets me pick out what I want because if I don’t get my way he will: starve and never have sex again.

  6. Every time I go to make a major furniture purchase my husband shrugs his shoulders and says, whatever floats my boat. That is until I mutter, “if I’m going to spend $3000 and you’re going to have to look at it for the next 20 years you should give it a little peak.”

    Then somehow its like living with HGTV’s next Design Star. The only problem, he’s stuck in the pink and blue pastel world of the 80’s uggggggg.

  7. We usually have a big bar brawl over decor, fighting almost to the death over it. That sounds way cooler than admitting that we pretty much agree on everything and haven’t had too many issues with it. Other than the office we’re currently redecorating. Because he will use it more he insists that it should be a man room. I say I’ll still be using it and therefore it should be a neutral room. The extent of this fight will be me telling him if he wants a man room he can paint it himself and him replying that I can do what I want. Fight over.

    And the couch your husband picked out makes me nervous. I would not be able to cope with that in my house. You are a brave woman.

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