I was challenged to make a Tupac reference in all further posts. This challenge will be met.
Lacey and I just finished an era. The table and chairs that we had when we were newly married have been replaced. It was the last piece of furniture to survive seven different moves. It was a sad moment for me. Six years, seven moves, and no originals left. We often view things in relation to days, weeks, and years. I have gauged time through the furniture that took up space in our house and passed the torch from the old to the new. Furniture that represented tiny moments in time. Accessories that could have been poorly constructed, absorbed punishment, or caused injuries. Objects that helped to create memories.
In the spring of 2006, Lacey and I inhabited an 1100 square foot apartment that was actually 900, and felt like 700. We had very few items to fill such a spacious area. Lacey had her bed from college and I had an old school television set that weighed a ton. The rest, we purchased on a sweet starter loan from USAA that was designed to ensure newly commissioned lieutenants would be broke for the better part of their twenties. Below are the highlights.
A poorly constructed, faux cherry, cork board atrocity disguised as a poster bed. This overpriced pile of excrement lasted one duty station and was broken during the setup phase of the second move.
Memorable quote: CRASH!!!!!! Dave Durbin on the phone: What was that? Me: The sound of the movers buying me a new bed.
An ill-conceived design of metal and wood with glass top. While on carpet, it served its purpose. On hardwood or tile, a rolling death trap. It became a fixture in the garage shortly after Carson began walking. Looking back, it is a miracle from God that this thing didn’t cause any trips to the emergency room.
Memorable quote: Lacey: Maybe we should bring in the coffee table. Me: Haven’t our kids spent enough time in the hospital?
The Television Stand
Remember that ridiculously ginormous, previously mentioned television set? It needed a resting place and that place was a lightly colored, cork board, affront to humanity that was poorly assembled by yours truly. The television of gigantic proportions caused it to pay homage to the leaning tower of Pisa.
Memorable quote: Lacey: I don’t like it there. Me: Too bad. I’m too scared to move it.
There are certain mistakes that you don’t realize are mistakes until you have kids. This sectional was that mistake. A light tan at purchase, became a collection of stains mixed with bleach spots. The final straw was a purple sharpie that fell into the hands of a mobile Carson. We gave it to a newly married couple to ensure they repeated our mistake.
Memorable quote: Lacey: This couch was clean once, wasn’t it?
The last to go. A wooden base supported a round glass top. White microfiber (White? Really? Why would anyone buy this?) chairs. Despite Lacey’s many attempts to clean, scrub, stain lift, magic eraser, oxiclean, and scotch guard, her efforts were in vain. Three children, who ate in a manner that would make a velociraptor cringe, proved to be too much. They succumbed to their fate on the 26th of October 2012. Six years after their purchase.
Memorable quote: Unable to let go of all her futile work. Lacey: I think we should put that table and chairs in our next house’s basement. Me: GIVE IT UP!
There are more items that have graced our many homes. Furniture that assisted first steps, absorbed drool during teething, and wished engineers would create a leak proof Capri Sun. Though they will most likely not have memories that are solely their own, they have and will provide the details that enhance those memories. Nuance added. Tangents from the real story. Carson, Grant, and Callie will think I’m lame when I fondly remember the ottoman Callie used for balance. Or the chair Grant decorated with pudding. Or the fire truck bed that Lacey had to put together because it defeated me. Youth is always unappreciative like that.
Good thing I’m okay with being lame.