The Sofa Situation

We were really walking on eggshells yesterday with the sofa situation. What sofa situation? I'm so glad you asked. I simply adore your inquisitive nature. I bet you were always raising your hand in school, asking, "Why? Why? Why?" Whereas the SJG was always praying, "Please don't call on me. Please don't call on me." But back to the sofa. Excuse me. The sofa situation. Here's a little back story, as we sporadically employed Hollywood-types say, mainly in terms of, "Too much @#$%'n back story! Cut to the chase for @#$%'s sake, before you lose the audience!" So I'll give you just a hint of the back story here. Deal? There's some apartment hopping going on with the sons. The eldest has moved into his new place. In the middle of moving mattresses down narrow alleys, someone said, I believe it was me, "Oh dear God, we swore on a stack of Old Testaments to never help with the move last time he moved!" All hubby could do at that moment was grunt in agreement. In this way, we are the Ultimate Enablers. You're welcome, kids. So, the eldest son moved a few blocks away from his brother, who will remain in the apartment they shared, awaiting his girlfriend, currently in Finland.

What's with the sons and the international beauties? Beats me, but isn't it wonderful? He'll now cohabitate with his lovely Finnish girlfriend in his brother's former room, and his former room will become an office so that his lovely Finnish girlfriend can study for the Bar Exam. She'll be a Finnish attorney practicing in Los Angeles. What's not to love about that? But first she must study, study, study, and studying requires a nice sofa bed for naps and occasional guests from her homeland. To find the sofa bed, we schlepped the youngest to a giant store and he picked out the least ugly of the bunch -- all sofa beds are ugly, there, I said it. He went for the queen sofa, and why not? What could possibly wrong? This:

"Doesn't look good, Ma."

On tippy toes, the sofa bed couldn't fit through the bedroom doorway. Even with the pushing and the shoving and the patient delivery men angling this way and that way, it was a no-go. The sofa situation was one problem I hadn't anticipated, and I go through life anticipating problems that are highly unlikely. This one, a first world problem, to be sure, never occurred to me. With deep regrets and no promises to keep in touch, the sofa bed went back to whence it came, some lonely factory near the airport, and the office-to-be remains sofa bed-free just so I can have another problem to solve.