We are piled on the couch watching Gordon Ramsey light into a restaurant owner who should be “ashamed of himself” for the deplorable conditions of his kitchen. I don’t like these shows with their scripted chaos and performative change that I know won’t last. People don’t change in day, let alone an entire business.
But I sit and watch because this is what the family wanted and I am trying very hard to sit still and be present. Something I am not very good at. I’m wedged in on either side by my boys, piled on top of me. My husband, who’s sunk into the other side of the couch, adores me. Therefore my kids adore me. It’s wonderful. Except for when I don’t want to be touched, which is often. I feel bad that I am like this, which is why I’m trying to enjoy this pile-on. My daughter calls from the chair across the living room that she feels left out, that our couch isn’t big enough. As if to prove her point she comes over, plops herself on the arm rest next to me and slides down into a non-existent spot, squeezing her brothers closer. We’re sardines. All five of us on the couch.
It’s the IKEA couch we bought not long after we were married. I insisted on the white slip cover because I was thinking more about the aesthetic and less about toddlers. Its sagging frame and permanently stained cushions anchor our living room. I’ve wanted a new couch for a while, thinking that after 24 years together it’s about time we graduated to a more “adult” couch. I browse websites, make lists in the Notes app on my phone: Crate and Barrel, West Elm, Joybird. I’ve ordered swatches from all of them, held them up, narrowed them down to my favorites and then tucked them in a drawer.
I’ve heard Arthur C. Brooks say more than once that its better to buy experiences than a new couch. “If you have money, there’s five things you can do with it: spend it on stuff, buy experiences, buy time by paying people to do things for you, give the money away or save it,” he says to Ginny Zurich on her podcast. “Buying experiences with your loved ones brings happiness.”
“Buying experiences with your loved ones brings happiness.”
My husband and I have made a lot of mistakes in our years together, but if there’s one thing we’ve done well it’s that we’ve prioritized experiences as a couple and as a family. “Always take the trip,” is a mantra we adopted that has pushed us into what turns out to be exactly the thing we needed, even if it seemed foolhardy or irrational. We’ve traveled abroad, gone on ski trips, and explored unique AirBnB’s just for the experience of being in a new place together.
But without fail, whenever we visit a new place, the AirBnB always has a great couch, some big sectional we can all pile onto, or a chaise lounge where my husband naps comfortably. I turn over the cushions of these couches wondering where it’s from, looking for the brand label. I’ve even messaged hosts asking: where is your great couch from? Do you love it? Thinking maybe we would love it too if we had one of our own to replace the sad, sagging IKEA couch in our living room.
Back at home I look up the couches, I get out the measuring tape to see which size would work best, dig the swatches back out from the drawer. I price the layout we like: left facing chaise lounge in the stain resistant chenille, or maybe the forest green velvet would work? My selections reveal a price that is the same as a four-day ski vacation. I close the tabs, put the swatches back in the drawer—Instagram will remind me later of my couch obsession.
I book the ski vacation.
