The other night the family was sprawled on the Comfort Turd watching the movie “The Valley” and trying to spot Amy’s cameo appearance as a partygoer.
The Comfort Turd is our enormous dark brown cheap leather sectional sofa. It takes up most of the family room and all five of us can, and have, napped on it simultaneously.
It came into our lives one weekend when Susan was in high school. On our way to drop her at high school for an all-day band competition, we stopped at an Indian Chaat place next to the consignment store. We had some time after our snack, so we wandered through the consignment store, because I love to rummage around in other people’s old stuff.
In the middle of the store was this enormous sectional sofa. Susan sank onto it and said, “If you buy this, I’d probably come home to visit you from college more often.”
I dropped her off, went home, got Larry, we bought the sofa, rented a U-Haul, and installed the sofa in the family room. I went to pick up Susan and we all enjoyed the look on her face when she saw it.
Ellen rolled around on it and declared, “It looks like a turd, but it sure is comfortable”, or words to that effect, and it became the Comfort Turd. The cheap leather is now rubbing off, but we love the Comfort Turd so much that we just keep layering brown duct tape over the bare spots.
So, we were watching this pretty bad movie, and the major plot point was that (spoiler) the mother in this Indian-American family was having an affair, her daughter caught her, and then the daughter committed suicide.
So I said, “I hope that you girls wouldn’t commit suicide if you saw me kissing another man.”
Amy said, “No worries, that will never happen, you don’t have the energy to have an affair.”
She is perfectly correct, and I Feel Very Seen.