Monday, October 05, 2009

Furnishing

In anticipation of Judy and Larry's (the in-laws) arrival Wednesday evening, Tom and I purchased a sleeper sofa.


***Back in "my" day, they were called Hide-A-Beds.  You can't find those anymore.  In our list of things to do for the house, I have included, "Hide-A-Bed for the loft" and "Hide-A-Bed for the office."  Now I'll never get done, guh!


It is a lovely purple sofa (the picture makes it look sort of wonky brown, but it's not).  Surprisingly, the mattress is reasonably comfortable in the, "Please come stay with us for a week or two, not much longer" sort of way.  Oddly enough, when I saw it in a store the other day, I never checked out what the sofa feels like to sit on.


Rock hard, just like my abs (in my dreams).  Meh, it's in the loft.  We're usually only there for story time and "looby loo" with Madelyn.


***What's looby loo?  Some song I learned when Corey was a wee bebe. 
"Here we go looby loo,
Here we go looby light,
Here we go looby loo,
All on a Saturday night."
Mad and I do this while stomping around in a circle over her foam letters mat.  To hear a tiny thing such as herself ask for "looby looby loo"... well, I will stomp in a circle as many times as she wants.  For some reason it segues nicely into the Mexican Hat Dance song, so we end with a flourish.


The furniture store, thankfully, has night deliveries (here's where we would be missing our old truck, except that it wouldn't have been up to the task).  We were scheduled for 6-10.  They called at 5:30, arrived at 5:40, brought the couch in, hefted it up the stairs and put it into position.  In the midst of it all, a neighbor's PITBULL managed to get loose (a-freaking-gain) and get INto OUR HOUSE.


Maisy was in her crate, so that's right where Big Poppa went.  (I have no idea of the dog's name... but someone who would have one would probably call their dog Big Poppa, right?)  One of the delivery guys, Jose, told me to pick up Mad.


***Uh, why didn't I think of that?  Because I was remembering what the woman said to me right before she married Tom and I.  There was a wasp flying around and she said, "Don't give it any energy and it will go away," so I didn't and it did.  Yes, my big plan was not to give any energy to the dog.


But Jose's, "I think you should pick up your daughter.  That dog looks dangerous," got me moving.  I picked her up.  Corey said maybe he could get the dog out the back.  He opened the screen and went out.  The dog followed.  Jose's partner closed the slider.  Jose closed the front door.  I hoped my son wasn't being mauled on the side of the house.  All the windows were up and I wasn't sure I'd hear him.  Corey got the dog out the front and came back inside (we don't actually know where the dog lives, only that we see it 2-3 times a month).  Jose and his partner delivered the sofa and went on their way.


Having the couch up there means that room is almost done.  Corey and Tom both seem to think that we need a TV up there (sorry, but I like being a one TV family).  It clearly needs something... a photo or other artwork... over the couch.   But it's close.  The only room closer is Mad's (natch... that girl has everything).


Tom and I tried out the bed.  No, not like that, you perves.  We just laid on it.  It's pretty comfortable.  The view outside was of a late sunset, all different shades of blue with a sliver of orange at the bottom.  Lovely.

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