Furniture

I don’t blame my grandson, but the trouble with our furniture did start soon after his arrival. My wife, Rhonda, and I were sitting in our recliners alternating between talking and reading when the conversation took a turn down a long road with no exits.

“Now that the baby is here we’re going to need more furniture,” Rhonda announced out of the blue.

“Do you mean like baby furniture?” I asked, pushing my chair back to full recline.

“No, we need more places for people to sit,” she explained.

“Who are these people?” I asked.

“Our family. Now that Micah is here we are going to need more seating.”

“I’ve seen him – he’s not that big. He’ll fit just fine, besides he sleeps most of the time anyway.”

A discussion followed about children growing up, more grandchildren, future family members etc.

“Okay,” I said, after I realized it was one of those discussions where the outcome was a foregone conclusion, and I was just being brought up to speed. She was neither looking for my approval nor consent; she was just letting me know.

Some of our furniture we picked up from antique stores (not very comfortable). A couple chairs are second-hand from a neighbor who was selling them; there are hand-me downs from parents and grandparents. Our first piece of furniture was a set of cinder blocks and one-inch thick planks. It was a perfectly matched set, but now I think it’s in the barn somewhere disassembled.

For our wedding my parents offered us a choice between a half of a bedroom set and a microwave. We chose the microwave, as we were unclear which half was being offered, and we were living in an apartment at the time and did not have room for even a third of a set. The microwave weighed about three hundred pounds – at least that’s how it seemed through the years as I carried it from apartment to house to house to house. It finally died, and we replaced it (two or three times). We still don’t have a bedroom set.

Shopping for furniture is a multi-step process. The first step is deciding you need new or additional pieces. The second step, the part I like, is going into the stores and looking at all the cool stuff: the beautiful arrangements, the decorations, the paintings, the lamps, and all the furniture. I can imagine I am entering a castle or a mansion with many rooms. Occasional chairs, odd end tables, uncustomary couches, erratic loveseats and uncommon ottomans are closely examined for both form and function.

However, shopping for furniture loses its luster once the details have to be ironed out. This is when fabrics are selected, along with the color (shade, tint, hue), pattern (plaid, solid, stripe) and whether they contrast or compliment each other. Once samples (swatches) are chosen the store requires a substantial deposit and an oath of love and loyalty to make sure you return them.   

When the swatches (samples) are home you spread them around your house like so many tea cozies so you can see if they like it in their new home. They also have to match the existing rugs, paint and the furniture that has survived the purging.

The samples are brought back to the store and you look at more stuff. Pillows are considered. Then more swamples (satches) are brought home; the existing furniture is rearranged to make matters worse. Then back to the store.

Somewhere in the process I checked out, and other than a polite nod from time to time accompanied with a blank stare, I declined to participate. I will recline, however, sometime in the near future in my new chair that has been selected through much agonizing.