NORMAN — Something happens when you get older. Even though you don’t really expect to, or even want to sometimes, you tend to grow up a bit.
I remember my first adult apartment. I had no idea what I really needed. I’d lived in furnished housing for years. First, my parent’s house. Then I downgraded to furnished college dives. But once I got my first real job, it was expected of me to purchase furniture.
Living with a limited income, the first couch was a futon that came from one of those big box discount stores. I don’t know if any of you have had the pleasure of sitting on metal furniture with a thin piece of fabric and poorly constructed stuffing, but it’s never been described as high society.
From there, I managed to grow and blossom into furniture I found in a garage sale. If memory serves me correctly, I wrote a check to a little old lady for $125. That included a sofa and a chair.
Sounds like a bargain to some, I’m sure. And I suppose it was since that was cheaper than the previously mentioned futon. Not to talk ill of a couch that really did nothing to deserve it, but that futon might have been a tad more comfortable and attractive than my so-called garage sale find.
Over the years, I moved that couch around to about a dozen different apartments. I learned to love it, despite it’s negatives, but then I got married. Apparently, when you get married, you realize things about yourself that you didn’t know — things that your love so graciously points out.
My husband learned that he snored in his sleep. I learned that this couch that I had toted around for years just no longer was cutting the mustard.