With a loveseat. I wasn't expecting it. It came right out of the blue. I was shopping in the furniture salvage store when it met my eyes from across the crowded room. I had a hot flash. My heart was beating wildly. I dropped my purse and left my shopping cart. I almost ran across the store to meet it's waiting cushions. There it was, the Queen's loveseat. And I sat down upon it in my voluminous winter coat and and promptly announced to my sweet enduring husband that it would be coming home with us.
Well, he sat down beside me and wiggled his bottom back and forth, stretched out his incredibly long legs and pushed back against the firm cushion. I could tell from the look on his face that he hated it. I said, "I have to have it, I love it so much." And he said "It is not at all comfortable." And I knew I was in for trouble.
Which would it be, the husband or the loveseat? I love them both with all my heart. I cannot bear to be without either of them. But what is a loveseat if the love of your life hates it? Does it become a "hateseat"? And can he ever learn to love it?
The negotiations were wicked. They included long periods of silence followed by bursts of reasoning for or against it. He wants comfort. I want beauty. Can they both survive in the same room? Can the Queen's loveseat reside in the same room with an overstuffed comfortable monstosity or will she pull up her gartered hosiery and quietly tiptoe out of the room?
He was desperate to make his point. Even told a story about how uncomfortable he was as a little boy in his mother's elegant living room which he was not allowed to play in. He sees the loveseat as "untouchable" furniture.
The compromise goes like this. I will pay for the loveseat out of my own pocket money. When he finds his perfect loveseat, that one is coming home too. Monstrosity or not. The queen's loveseat will have to accept that. After all, the king lives here too!
Oh, and that companion chair that followed the loveseat home? I have no idea how that happened to jump into the back of the truck and follow us home. I swear.
And here she is in all of her gilded glory:
With special thanks to son Jed who came over to help unload her and only made the comment: "You have very unique taste, Mom." I love you!