Sofa, So Good-The Tale of an Underappreciated Piece of Furniture

Sofa, So Good-The Tale of an Underappreciated Piece of Furniture

I am there for you after a long day at work. I am there for you on the weekends, when all you want to do is plop yourself down and let the television wash over you. I am there for you when you rent a DVD to help turn your living room into the most com

fortable theater around. I am even there for husbands who are unexpectedly expelled from the comfort of their beds by an angry wife. I'm your sofa, and I'm always there for you. I'm probably the most underappreciated piece of furniture most of you own, yet also the most used. I am as reliable as a best friend and as consistent as the sunrise.

Choosing a new sofa can be as agonizing as choosing a new car. What kind of upholstery do I want? What color? Any special features? Am I going to like it a year from now, how about five years? Once I'm brought home and put in my assigned place, though, I'm all but forgotten. I become a fixture in your living room almost instantaneously, effortlessly blending in with my surroundings like a chameleon. I can eventually become an unofficial member of a family, a step below the dog and cat, but definitely above the goldfish.

I silently and steadfastly endure a ton of abuse. From spills to crumbs to pet hair, and anything else

you can imagine, I sit there and take it. Scotch Guard or no, I do my best to repel every wine and soda spill and of course, every leaky diaper. I'm also often vilified for doing nothing more than keeping valuables safe and sound. You accuse me of "eating" items such as earrings, loose change, and, of course, remote controls. This is a definite misnomer as I get plenty of nourishment from the aforementioned food and drink spills. What's happening here is I'm simply holding on to these items for you until you need them. Kind of like the safety deposit box you never knew about.

I require no thanks or fanfare for my loyalty and dependability. All I ask is that you try not to sit on my arms and that you please change any diapers on the carpet. You could probably mix in a salad and skip dessert every now and again too. That's just me looking out for your health, though. Also, please don't send me away to your teenager's apartment when you're done with me. I deserve a more dignified retirement than that; I'll take my chances at the Goodwill.
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