The Couch

Here is my couch on the side of the road awaiting the garbage truck tomorrow morning. This worn out couch deserved throwing out a dozen years ago.  The arms had lost their plump shape. The cushions sagged lower than they should of even with the added support of flattened cardboard boxes under them. There is a hole in the fabric of the back of the couch where a run-away gerbil bit a hole and made a home there for a couple days.  Later that gerbil died.  I suspect the cause of death was couch thread poisoning.  Offspring #2 helped me get the couch out the garage the other day. I found 97 cents under the cushions.  Today I used my two wheel dolly to haul it out to the street.  Years ago, when Offspring #2 was small, I used to kneel on the floor with my back to the seat of this couch. She would stand at the end of the opposite hall, near her bedroom, and wait for me to open my arms.  When I opened my arms should would come running at me full tilt and slam into me forcing me back onto the cushions on this couch. We would do this routine over and over and over.  I certainly got my moneys worth out of this couch.  Today is the day I express gratitude for all the memories and send it to the landfill.