I think he's trying to tell me something

Almost 10 years of marriage now (we celebrate our anniversary on the 27th) and I think my husband is sending me a message. It has to do with the couch he inherited when he married me. It has a history with me.

Uzz and I bought it. It was probably our first piece of real furniture that we bought as a married couple. We had it scotchguarded - which was a giant waste of time - as Pickle managed to take a blue Bic pen to the arm of it about a week or two after we got it. We hadn't even made a payment on the damn thing before he ruined it. Not to worry, I just tossed a quilt over that arm. No one ever noticed until they got cold and moved the quilt.

Then, it came with me when I charged out into the cruel world on my own as an in-debt single mom. I made more history on it that doesn't need to be read by my mother-in-law, sister-in-law or ex-husband. Or even Pickle - who ventures over here from time to time, much to my chagrin. (look it up Pickle if you don't know what chagrin means)

But, I digress. The couch. It is pretty nasty. I bought a denim-looking slip cover for it a few years ago and now even the slip cover is nasty and needs to be replaced. There is a permanent divet in one of the arms and I have a few guesses of how it got there. I blame the children. The few times I was using the arm of the chair pale in comparison to the times I have caught children playing Superman and jumping from that vantage point. I suppose three children and almost 14 years of children jumping off the arm of the couch could do that to it ...

Then, my husband sends me the link to Dad Gone Mad's denim couch dilemma. Yeah, he's definitely trying to tell me something.