Today I made a decision. The red couch has to go.
This decision makes me a little sad. When Brady and I first moved in together, this was the first piece of furniture we picked out and bought together. It was our first major purchase together and in a way signified the beginning of our life together. Or at least our cohabitation. Which was in sin. Much to the dismay of my parents. My father showed his disapproval by being conveniently absent while we were moving my fridge.
Not only is this couch special to me, its really, really comfortable. Brady and Mickey loved this couch.
Mickey as a puppy was so freaking cute, I can't stand it.
When we rescued Frank, he felt at home right away on our couch. Frank and Mickey both love to chase each other and sleep on the red couch. Which is why the couch must go. Because its disgusting. It is covered in dog hair and dog slobber and just plain dog grossness. It has been moved to two apartments and one house, its banged up, fading, and really needs to be put out of its misery. Plus we bought a leather sectional specifically so we could get rid of the red couch, six months ago.
People can't even sit on the red couch because they will be covered in dog hair and the dogs will jump all over you. So while I am sad that the red couch must go, its time. The red couch had a good run and now it must go to the big furniture store in the sky where it will be restored to its prime and reunited with the matching arm chair and love seat we couldn't afford.
Goodbye red couch, Brady and I will miss you. Ok, I won't miss you that much because I am sick of vacuuming you constantly and spraying gallons of febreeze on you every day.
But the bullies will miss you.