I have a confession to make. I am in love with the most hideous chair I have ever seen. There, I said it. I feel better now.
When I was a kid, I had this blue bean bag. Only I didn’t get to keep it for very long because my mom (or more realistically my Mamaw) heard that they were a suffocation hazard and a choking hazard and, I don’t know, probably flammable too. So that was the end of that.
Flash forward to my mid-to-late 20s. Other Half and I are spending the day at my favorite mall and I see a store selling bean bag chairs. Not just any bean bag chairs, but the one that every bean bag chair aspires to be. Soft and fur covered and big enough for two people. And now, it’s not just that cheap ugly pillow that kids have in their rooms. It’s a sophisticated, expensive ugly pillow that adults cocoon themselves in. I wanted one desperately. But we agreed that it was not practical and too expensive, so I moved on with my life.
After I decided I wasn’t going to buy a new couch, Other Half offered a compromise. The ugly bean bag chair of my dreams as a trade-off for keeping the cervix (cervixes? cervici? Not sure what the plural is. If you’re confused, here’s a link to the story about the cervix https://settingupstones.com/2020/08/12/couch-shopping/).
It was a little bigger than I remembered. About 5 feet wide, and 80 pounds or so in weight. Getting it in the truck was super easy. (And yes, I realize it could have gone in the truck bed. But I didn’t want gross bugs and leaves and road debris to be stuck in the soft gray fur. Don’t you know me at all?)
When we got it home, Benjamin Button pushed from inside the truck while Other Half pulled from the outside of the truck. I swear it was like watching a Dodge Ram give birth. Finally, the chair popped out and we half carried, half rolled it through the front door. To give you an idea of size, the rug is an 8 foot round.
The kids love the chair. They fought me for it. I still hadn’t even gotten to sit in it and they were already marking their territory.
Finally, we got into the living room and I sat in it for the first time. I sank into it and felt like I was in a womb or something. It was like getting a hug from a piece of furniture. It is the best place in the history of the world to read a book. But not movies. Not in your 30s. The resultant back pain is not worth it.
So, I’ve traded in the cervix for the womb. It’s not pretty, but in a world where there can sometimes be so much pain, I think we should find the happy wherever we can. My happy is in this chair with my book and my laptop. Judging by the looks of things, it might be Mary Ann’s happy too. It might not be pretty, but it’s the best seat in the house.