Marriage is About Compromise
Last night the hubs and I went to Huck Finn's for two bookcases. We left instead with two wing chairs. Yes, I already have two wing chairs at home that I was supposed to slipcover into lovlieness, but now we'll have to sell those. Because last night we found the perfect marriage of my husband and I in a chair. You see, Joe grew up with fugly la-z-boy style recliners, in awesome colors like Marigold or Puce. And they're velvet. All of them. The chairs are the grossest things in the world. The kind you find 10 year old cheese doodles in, or perhaps a milk dud from that time you watched the Goonies, you know, when you were six. My point is, those chairs, well they're gross. But last night we found Wing Chairs that look like normal queen anne style wing chairs, except...they recline. It sounds tacky, I know. And if you would have mentioned this to me before last night I would have shuddered at the thought too. But these are actually really nice. And oh my god are they comfortable. The ones we found are a greige microfiber. Clearly they'll still have to be recovered, but they'll fit in well enough for now (and definitely better than the red tartan colored chairs have) until I can save up the money to dress them nicer. We're picking them up tonight. I didn't take a picture of them, the closest thing I could find in a brief google images search was this, which does them no justice. I almost didn't include it in this post. But oh well, here it is.
