I don’t know how to explain The Napping Couch.
It’s pretty ugly. It used to be red-my least favorite color- but has faded into a nameless, washed out version of red. It is covered in grapes and huge leaves, where the green has faded to grey. The fabric is ripped in many places, especially along the back. There are a few spots where the foam has been pushed aside to reveal the wood framing. The very bottom edges of the skirt are a brownish black from constantly brushing a floor filled with dog hair. It groans when someone plops down on it, and it creaks every time they adjust their position.
I’m not sure how long we’ve had The Napping Couch. I know that we got it from Aunt Lindy, and I think she’s had it since she was in college. I’m not sure how The Napping Couch got its name. The arms are too high for it to really be classified as a good napping couch. It’s not especially long, which makes it short for my giant family, so it’s not like we can stretch out on it.The cushion are wearing thin, so it’s not the most comfortable couch. And yet, it has been dubbed The Napping Couch.
In Nebraska, The Napping Couch was in my parents’ room. They had two TVs, but The Napping Couch faced the big TV and the small TV was angled towards the bed. Only the big TV had a DVD player, so my mom and I used to curl up on it and watch movies when she had a headache, which was like once a week. Then when my dad moved out, he took it to his new apartment and I slept on it when I visited him. My mom threw away out old living room couch when we moved to San Antonio and bought a really fancy Ethan Allen couch for our new house. The new couch is being like hand crafted or something, so it won’t be here for another few weeks. Until then, The Napping Couch is the middle of the living room.
The Napping Couch has been with us through our last four homes. It’s one of my favorite parts of our house. It’s not pretty or particularly comfortable, but I love it. When I see it in all its worn out glory, I feel settled. When I lay down, I can fall asleep almost instantly. It’s my favorite place to read or write or type or draw or color or just think. My best ideas and my best naps happen on it’s cushions. No one would ever mention getting rid of The Napping Couch, so I just assumed it would go back in my mom’s room when the new fancy couch gets here. She said her room isn’t big enough, even though it totally is, but I don’t care that she’s lying to herself because The Napping Couch will find it’s new home in my room.
I’m not very sentimental, and The Napping Couch has made it on the short list, despite it’s unappealing features. In some unexplainable way, it means the world to me.