I took a huge and probably irrevokable step towards looming, hulking, stale-smelling adulthood this week. We purchased matching recliners.
Not only that, when we got them home, I discovered the only way to satisfactorily place them in the house is to use the Grandma design schema. You know - two chairs next to each other seperated by a small table on which to pile the remote, your glasses, and whatever you are attempting read during the commercials.
That is bad enough. But... then I realized there is a perfect space between the chairs and slightly under the table for the wastebasket. At first I was excited about this - the elegant efficiency of the whole arrangement. But then I took a step back and realized I had achieved an almost perfect replica of my grandmother's living room.
Its soooo ordinary. Like mashed potatoes...
6 comments:
OMG, you are getting so old. I loved this post, I laughed so hard my co-workers came in here to see what was going on.
I think it smells a little like Vicks in here.
oh my mashed potato'd friend, you didn't let me down. i came to your blog praying 'oh rach, i really need a good laugh, please help' and i was blessed, and then the vicks comment just about sealed it for me - wonderful!
not that you're mashed potatos and grandma's floor plan, but that you share it so well - i LOVE your sense of humor rach! oh crap, i just noticed your post title and i'm laughing up my lung. thanks, i really needed that!
SO GREAT! I love this. Oh man.
Say Grandma. Well what she fails to tell you at this point is this is a man's worst nightmare on Furniture. She likes to move the arrangement around continuously. So you as a man get use to the design then you come in late or wake up to go potty and boom, you run into a couch that was not there when you went to bed. Sorry sweety, but ole Jackson had to tell on you.
Oh, looky! A sleazy bible salesman visited my blog. Joy.
Post a Comment