Today we lost an entire couch to a stomach bug and my own stupidity. Well, perhaps a few people’s stupidity. Who sews top and bottom cushions right onto a couch so that it’s impossible to clean spills out of the side cracks??!?
Probably the same sort of people who put their tummy-achy four-year-old to lie facedown in the corner of it with no underlying tarp or accompanying puke bucket, that’s who.
That was a definite failure in my career of motherhood so far.
Goodbye, paisley brown puffy couch. You served us well for nearly six years, despite the numerous holes you developed in your upholstery and the copious cat clawings along your backside. You hid every stain so well, saw me through diaper blowouts, baby spit-up, endless hours of nursing, and countless naps. My boys loved flopping on you in a heap and snuggling up to watch their favorite shows or read books together.
Despite how often I complained that you were too large for our living space and really needed a cover, I had no idea how grateful I was for you until my son’s stomach acid irrevocably saturated your innards.
It’s been a good run. We’ll miss you.