This sofa is as old as Max is. As YOUNG as Max is. I’m not kidding.

Max has probably learned a lifetime’s worth of curse words listening to his Dad discuss the sorry state of our NEW (yes, it was brand new) couch with the furniture store. I think at one point he may have even told them that if they did not give us a refund and come and get this damn couch, then he would drop it off in front of their showroom.
They did not give us a refund. But they did allow us to exchange our old new couch for a new new couch. Providing we paid the difference. And paid delivery charges. Bastards. This conversation went on for months.
Until the day finally came when the new couch arrived. And we discovered that after ALL of the debating, yelling, threatening to call the Better Business Bureau, and driving all the way to Berkeley to choose a new couch……the damn thing wasn’t going to fit up the stairs.
I’m not kidding.
So Sean, who typically watches movers like a hawk to make sure that they don’t ding up the walls, had to let our (very frustrated, very tired) movers know that at this point, we had no other option but to let them push/shove the new couch up the stairs, around the corner, and into the living room. Two bashed up walls later, we had our new couch….
Max and Daddy had to try it out…..except the other pieces weren’t in place yet (see the empty space to the right?)

Sofa Debacle? Officially over.


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