Got Pink Eye on the Giants Chair

I spent the majority of the evening in the basement disassembling a couch. I used a circular saw, a hammer, a hand saw, tin snips and pure brute strength to take a couch apart.

You see, it had to be taken apart by hand rather than simply moved upstairs. My kid brother helped me stuff that couch downstairs back in 2004, leaving marks across the walls because it was simply too big to twist down my spiral staircase to the basement, and even that feat was a miracle that was only possible due to the removal of all banisters, the doors and sheer obstinance. I knew then when it went downstairs that it would never be coming back up in a single piece.

So I hammered, sawed, twisted and tore that old couch apart.

But the thing about the couch is that I had that damn thing for nigh on ten years. Back in 2001, when I used to live beneath an OCD neighbor in the apartment above me, who marched 300 times around the room each night, stepping on the same squeaky floorboard exactly seven times per round, I ended up sleeping on that couch nightly with the TV cranked loudly to drown out the noise.

And they say dust comes from human skin cells. And, it so happens I’m just over 40 years old.

Therefore, I chopped apart a couch with 25% of my life’s skin cells embedded in the thing, and it aggravated my own allergies horribly. In fact, I’m itching just relaying this story to everyone.

The thing that prompted me to destroy my old couch into tiny pieces to bring it upstairs to eventually throw it away is that my boy peed on my couch. He did this mostly because he was too “out of it” due to allergy medication to treat his Pink Eye. Plus, of course, it was time for the old couch to go and get something new. His peeing on my couch was the great impetus to get a new one. Pee-smelling straw to break that camel’s back so-to-speak.

So while we were shopping for a new futon to replace the old couch- (it had to be portable down a spiral staircase to the basement) we encountered some interlocking theater chairs that were also recliners. Those new chairs are glorious, so no need to worry about replacing a couch with a “folding couch.” And they are small enough that the delivery folk should be able to bring them downstairs without any difficulty.

And this brings the whole story around to the picture above. While shopping for furniture there was a Giant’s chair. We stuck our boy on it and asked him to say “Pink Eye!” and he laughed and said it as I snapped the shot much to Jess’ protests that I shouldn’t announce his discomfort so loudly.