We have a small brown couch from Pier 1, it stinks. It is super-lightweight, not very wide, and is barely 5.5 feet long. I loved laying on the couch though. It was the only place our dog Nellie wasn't allowed. It also was in front of our Den T.V.
When Michael was smaller he used to get on the opposite end of the couch and would lay on it also. This was not too much of a problem when he was small. I would move his feet behind my legs. As he got taller his feet inched higher and higher up on me. He was at the point where his feet were near my butt. That was weird and we were always trying to adjust his feet so they didn't poke me. I loved it when he was on the couch and we watched tv together. It was usually a cartoon like Chaotic. We would each lay at opposite ends of the couch with a pillow under our heads. We would be under a sheet and watch the latest episode of Chaotic. Of course there was always the "move your legs Michael" and the "Stu your toes are in my face" banter between us. The banter would get annoying at times, but I would give anything to hear that banter again. We purchased a new couch (blue) a week before Michael died. When picking this couch, I made sure that it would hold the bigger Michael and me. That feature was the most important for me actually. Michael never got to see the couch (he was on spring break when we picked it out), and we didn't get it until several weeks after the funeral. Laying on the couch has never been the same.
When Jenn did her all night scraps, Michael and I would get on the couch, cover up with a sheet. I would fall asleep first and he would soon follow as we watched a movie. Nothing was sweeter than seeing his angelic face sleeping on the couch. He would cup his face with his right hand and have his left hand near his chest. When he was sleeping, he was at peace.
He is at peace now, but I miss the mild yet managed anarchy that once roamed our house.
No comments:
Post a Comment