poured out before bed
When Mr. Whine and I were first married and moved in together, we ditched my old couch – the (chartreuse) stuffing was coming out of it, which didn’t really go with the eighties blue-pink corduroy look it had been trying to pull off for far to long. That left us with his old couch, which was (hideous and) the exact replica of JD and Turk’s shared sitter on the TV show Scrubs. (No kidding.) In addition to clashing with everything else we collectively owned, the couch was uncomfortable (and ugly). I hated that (horrid) couch. But Mr. Whine had a very strong affection for said (grotesque) piece of furniture. (Did I mention it was repellent?) So I endured the sore back (and sore eyes) associated with it for some time. Then one fine day Mr. Whine and I stopped at a local home goods store to use a gift card. He led me to the linens section and pointed out a set of pretty pillow cases. “Why don’t we get those?” he asked. I imagined the maroon-red-orange couch-nightmare made a bit more puke-like with a few specks of green (bile, anyone?) and gave him a look. “Then we could get a couch to match them,” he smiled. I can tell you, the feeling that washed over me was not unlike the joyous excitement I felt when he proposed. We went home with the vintage-reproduction pillow cases. We found an affordable new (not ugly) couch within the week. And now every time I sneak a naplet, I enjoy my slumber in style.