We ordered a couch 7 weeks ago. At the time we were told it would take 6 to 8 weeks to build and upholster. I was hesitant to buy this particular couch because it would be delivered after the baby was born. You see, one of the main reasons we were buying a new couch was so my mom (dad or brother, whomever) would have a comfortable place to sleep post-baby.
“The couch needs to arrive first and this one will not.” I said in the store, arguing with Toby Joe.
“We can’t choose a couch solely based in its delivery date. That’s just stupid. It’s a dumb reason to pick one couch over another.” He said. “We’ll give them our bed.”
He pointed out that it was the nicer couch. And he reminded me that we’d have it for years to come.
Basically, he told me to suck it up and wait.
Well, it’s been 7 weeks and I just got a call saying the couch would be delivered this Saturday.
So: listen up, Couch. I have a few words for you. It’s on, Couch. Do you hear me?
It’s so on.
I am just waiting for the post where your water breaks on the new couch.
Oh, holy shit. Thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.
Hopefully Toby doesn’t read this or I’m gonna be in diapers come Saturday.
Hot. I already act like an 80-year-old woman with my balm, heating pad, lavender lotion, nasal strips and constant bitching. What’s an adult diaper?
Just keep the plastic wrap on.
There’s an idea! Maybe, since the couch will be protected, I’ll be inspired to just go ahead and birth this kid right there on the couch.
I’ll webcast the whole thing. Live.
You better go ahead and get that 42 week brazilian wax then if you’re going to be webcasting live from the new couch.