Arrivederci, Red Couch.

Six years ago, shortly after our wedding, Will and I rented a car, and drove past Chicago to Schaumberg, IL. We checked into a La Quinta Inn and went over our battle plan. The next day, we woke up early, traded the rental car for a U-Haul, and made our way to IKEA. This was the first of many harrowing IKEA trips we would make in our lives, and it was also the most extreme. We furnished 90% of our house from that trip, including a dining table and chairs, bed frame, office furniture, book shelves, and a couch. That couch, the cheapest IKEA has to offer in that regard, was not meant to be our forever couch. But over half a decade later, it remains.

It's been spruced up by a snazzy slip cover, and loved as much as you can love a couch that does not provide the comfort necessary for naps and moves back a few inches if you sit too quickly on it due to its feather-weight craftsmanship. It has provided a measure for our growing family; Will and I fit all right on it together, but over the years it has been made to fit one and then two poodles, and now baby makes five.

Tomorrow our new couch gets delivered. A non-IKEA couch. (Will claims we are on a path to replacing all IKEA furniture with "real" stuff. At this rate, we'll be IKEA-free in 2065.) It is nine feet long, has a chaise on one side, and we got to choose the upholstery. Not slip cover. Upholstery. Growing up feels goooooood today.