Interview With The Couch.

Rachel: Thank you for sitting down with me today for the purposes of this interview, couch.

Couch: Is it really considered “sitting down with you” when you’re sitting on me?

Rachel: You know what I mean.  Thanks anyway.  Clearly, you and I have met many times, and some other people may be familiar with you as well since you make many appearances on Facebook.  But for the purposes of the rest of my readers, can you introduce yourself?

Couch: I’d be glad to.  I’m a leather and suede couch, ottoman, and love seat grouping that resides at the house of Rachel’s brother’s family.

I started out life in a furniture showroom, both elegant and beautiful, with the guarantee of a fulfilling life ahead of me.

Interview With The Couch

The brochures promised me a pristine environment, one where I would be the centerpiece of a quiet, calm, model home.

Interview 2

Five years ago, a young couple came to my showroom.  They looked around with a spark of excitement in their eyes – I knew that they were furnishing their first home.

Aaaah, young love.  There’s nothing a couch enjoys more.

Much like Corduroy the Bear, I SO hoped they would pick me.  I just knew that I could add to their many years of quiet cuddling and romantic evenings.

When they pointed to me, my synthetic polyester stuffing jumped with joy!  I was going to get my brochure destiny after all.

We started our life together blissfully – it was just as I hoped it would be.  A beautiful home, a giant television, and the opportunity for me to offer many opportunities of rest and relaxation to my owners.

However, I’m the sensitive type, and it didn’t take me long to realize that the female owner was getting a little heavier every time she sat upon me.

A few months later, I realized why.


He was a nice enough baby, and now I got to enjoy a greater pleasure: long hours of being the chosen place of cuddling with their new bundle.

Sure, he screamed sometimes.  But he didn’t make messes – except for baby puke, but that’s fairly easy to wipe off of my high quality suede seat.

But then.  My life changed.

Rachel:  How so?

Couch:  Well, as it turned out, this new member of the family seemed to have an uncontainable artistic streak.

Eli Artist

Rachel:  Yes, yes indeed.  But how did this effect you, exactly?

Couch:  Apparently, he felt that I needed a bit more design than my factory specifications offered.  And he decided that he was the man to offer those missing aesthetics.

Rachel:  I see.  And what medium did he use to implement these necessities?

Couch:  Sharpie.

Rachel:  Sharpie?  What mother would leave Sharpies in reach of an artistically bent child?

Couch:  Did I mention that he was also a very agile climber?  He could scale an eight foot bookshelf in 30 seconds flat.

Rachel:  How did he know the Sharpies were at the top of an eight foot bookshelf??

Couch:  Ah.  That IS the mystery, no?  Perhaps a very keen sense of smell as well.

Rachel:  Well, at any rate, how exactly did he use these Sharpies?

Couch:  He covered us.  All of us.

Rachel:  Oh MY.  Sharpies are Permanent, aren’t they?

Couch:  Not as permanent as they used to be.  Magic Erasers truly are magic.  But it took no small amount of effort on the lady of the house’s part, let me assure you.

Rachel:  Well, I’m sure you were relieved when you got back to normal.

Couch:  That’s the thing.  Normal never returned.  Somehow, he multiplied.  Very quickly.

Eli Tessa Andi

Rachel:  Oh, but they’re so fantastically adorable!!

Couch:  Adorable, yes.  But Artists, the whole lot of them.

Rachel:  So what happened next?

Couch:  The middle girl.  She had a thing for mixed media.  Especially in the form of an entire makeup bag.

Rachel:  I’m afraid to ask.  But was lipstick included?

Couch:  And mascara.

And not soon after, the original artist tried to recreate his work – this time with a green Sharpie.

Rachel:  But you weren’t always the victim of his masterpieces, right?

Couch:  True.  It was the window and sill (and his hair) that received The Great Fingernail Polishing of 2011.

Eli Fingernail Polish

Rachel:  And after all, none of your damage was permanent.  For that you can be thankful!

Couch: Well…

Rachel:  Uh Oh…

Couch:  There was the Steak Knife.

Rachel:  No…

Couch:  Yes – tiny pricks were made in my Love Seat.

Rachel:  How did he get steak knives??

Couch:  You know that Bible Verse that says, (paraphrased,) “Nothing is out of His reach?”, well this kid has some similarities with Jesus.

Rachel:  Well, Jesus did like drawing in the sand…

Couch (abruptly changing the subject): And then there was The Great Pee.

Rachel:  Go on…

Couch:  The middle one.  She was potty training.  And she decided to allow me to take part in that fun stage of human development.

Which was fine – I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been exposed to toddler bodily fluids in the past.  The pee itself was rather blasé – a pitiful attempt at shocking my past-shock self.


Rachel:  So why is it mentionable?

Couch:  Well, when the lady of the house scrambled to clean me up, she thought she had grabbed the anti-urine-smell stuff.

But right after she dumped it all over me, she realized that in her haste, she had grabbed the bleach.


Rachel:  I bet you don’t smell like pee.

Couch:  Indeed.

Rachel:  So is that all?

Couch:  It was – until a couple of weeks ago.  When The Original Artist decided to return to his work with the steak knives, except this time, much older and wiser in the ways.

And with ten knives.


Rachel:  Wow.  Well there you go.  So I guess you’re wishing you had been picked by another family, huh?

Couch:  No way!

Rachel:  What?  Why not?

Couch:  Job Security!  I have more than any model-home-couch ever dreamed of having.  Until the last one goes to college in 2028, they don’t DARE replace me.