The One About The Couch

It was just a couch, but it brought back a flood of memories.

"My mom had a couch like that," my friend Mindy said. She continued on to tell a story, but all I could think about was how similar the couch was to The Couch.

The Couch my mom had always wanted.

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When you grow up in a trailer park where the rent is $75 per month, the furniture tends to be the sort of furniture that others might consider worthless. In our case, the living room furniture paid homage to the 70's. Our couch bore an orange and brown pattern that told a story with it's scenic rural print. There was a barn and a farmhouse surrounded by trees, a wagon-wheel fence, and fields of wheat.

It was hideous.

But, it was the only couch we had. It had gone from living a stylish life in the early 70's in my grandparents house, to living a slightly outdated life in their basement, to living a completely tacky life in my childhood home. My mom surely realized just how hideous it was, but she was protective of the things that were expensive to replace. I can't tell you the number of times I was told to get my ass off of the arm of the couch. "Get off of there before you break that arm!" she would scold.

Can you break the arm of a couch? I'm not sure. I never managed to do it, but once I was old enough to appreciate the value of a piece of furniture, I stopped risking it. Ask Alexis what happens to little girls who climb on the arms of couches in our house now, 30 years after my mom first started yelling at me for doing the same.

It's so fun when you hear your own mother in your head as you fuss at your kid.

My mom protected that couch for well over fifteen years. She cleaned it and vacuumed it and did everything she could to keep the velvet fabric from wearing out. By the time I graduated from high school, however, her efforts were starting to be in vain.

It was so worn out. So very worn out.

And yet she continued to care for it. It wasn't until she was given the all-clear after a radical mastectomy that she started to plan for its demise. It was then that she made up her mind that she would get new living room furniture no matter what. She wanted a matching set, and she decided to move mountains to make it happen.

She started stashing pennies to save for new living room furniture. She picked up aluminum cans on the side of the road and turned them in for cash. She scrounged. She sold things. She saved. Eventually she pulled together enough cash to put a couch, loveseat, and chair on layaway at the local furniture store.

From there it took her another year to make the payments required to take the furniture home. The ugly orange and brown couch went to its final resting place at the landfill, and it was replaced with something new.

And equally ugly.

I have no idea what she saw in The Couch. It was horrific. We went from paying homage to the 70's to paying homage to the 80's with a pink, slate blue, and gray southwestern style geometric pattern.

The cancer returned and eventually murdered my mom in 1995, just over a month after The Couch went home.

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My dad remarried not long after my mom passed away. That's another story for another time, but my thoughts on it were born in an explosion of emotion related to The Couch.

I returned to North Dakota for my dad's wedding. It was a mistake for me to be there, but I didn't know that until I walked into my childhood home. I stood in the middle of the living room where my mother died and asked, "What happened to The Couch?"

"That ugly thing? I should have burned it, but I threw it away instead," my new stepmother said.

I loved that stupid couch.

It Was My Idea

"What are we doing for Labor Day?" a friend asked.

"I don't know, what are we doing?" I replied.

And with that, a very hasty, very small get-together was thrown together at the last possible second.

Funny how not planning and not preparing always leads the way to the best possible nights.

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As the sun started to set, I sat on the patio surrounded by people I adore.  If it's true that people tease those they love, the adoration is mutual because OMG ENOUGH WITH YELLING "WIENER," PEOPLE.

Ahem.

The gaggle of kids that were in attendance started to wander into the house. It was still early, which, really? Can I just punch fall in the face? I'm not ready for pumpkin spice lattes just yet. I'd rather be dealing with daylight until 11:00 at night. Regardless, it was too dark to make use of the nearly carnival-like line of toys in the yard, so the kids were looking for things to do.

Inside.

I can't handle kids being inside. I have the undying need to yell at them to GO OUTSIDE.

It was then that I remembered my list of things I wanted to do this summer. Somewhere on that list was "movie night in the driveway," so I ran into the house in search of the projector.

So ... uh ... yeah. I have a projector. Years ago, the company I worked for was throwing it away. I rescued it before it could take up space in the landfill. It doesn't get used often, but it's crazy convenient at times that I have one.

And it was VERY convenient this weekend. I lugged it outside along with my laptop and started hooking up a little theater in our driveway. Somewhere along the line I realized that I had taken one of the essential cables out of the bag, but then the husband noticed that there were electronics and wires and things happening. He OF COURSE slapped on his AV Guy personality and took over.

A few minutes and one lost DVD player later, the AV Guy started to object. I think he said something about "terrible idea" and various other super awesome and positive things, but I can't be sure because I became focused on three little words.

West. Nile. Virus.

Somewhere along the way, the AV Guy decided it was a bad idea to gather the kids in the driveway because West Nile Virus is very much so A Thing right now.

I am obviously highly diligent because I replied, "So? Go set it up."

Speakers were connected, the projector was leveled out, chairs were grabbed, and the movie began playing on our garage door. We had a drive-in theater in our own back yard, but we didn't have to deal with any of the "pleasantries" the drive-in usually entails.

"What are those people doing?"

"Oh, nothing, honey. I think they're just hugging. In the back seat of their car. While not wearing pants. LOOK! SOMETHING SHINY!"

See? Conversations like that don't happen in my driveway.

It didn't take long for the kids to notice the big screen. Moments later, they were huddled around the garage, quietly watching the movie while us adults sat and chatted on the patio.

Best. Night. Ever.

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Did I mention that the movie projected onto the garage door thing was my idea? No? Well, it was my idea. I even have a link that proves it was my idea.

And now the AV Guy can stop telling everyone that it was such a great idea. Because he did. You know, after he gave me grief for a solid half hour.

Oh, and Alexis can stop saying that she had so much fun because daddy did that cool thing with the movie.

IT WAS MY IDEA, KID. MY IDEA.

GRRRRR.

Dessert Nachos

When kids gather at our home, they expect s'mores.   Unfortunately, the weather forecast said to expect rain and misery. Rain and s'mores don't play along nicely, so I tried to be prepared. I had a back-up plan.

Dessert Nachos.

OH, YES. I DID.

These were crazy easy, but SO good.

SO SO SOOOOOO GOOD.

I'm planning to make another batch tomorrow when I can hide in a closet and not share them with anyone else. You just watch me.

I started with an oven-safe pan and some pita chips. I used Stacy's Simply Naked Pita Chips, to be exact. I've heard of other people using the cinnamon-flavored ones in recipes similar to this one, but I wanted the plain ones that have just a bit of salt on them to counter the sweet that I was planning to pile on top.

That "sweet" included a bunch of mini marshmallows, a few handfuls of chocolate chips, and some Reese's Pieces.

Later batches went to a whole other level when I added caramel sauce, chocolate sauce, and whatever else called my name when I went hunting for sweets in the pantry.

Mmmhmmmmmm.

I threw them in the oven for ten minutes at 350 degrees, and all was right with the world. Kids were happy and not complaining that s'mores didn't happen and adults were happy because OMG SO GOOD.

Seriously.

Make some.

Dessert Nachos

Lightly salted pita chips
Mini Marshmallows
Chocolate Chips
Reese's Pieces
Other sweet stuff that makes you happy

1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

2. Toss the pita chips into the bottom of an oven-safe pan.

3. Layer the marshmallows, chocolate chips, and whatever else on top.

4. Bake for approximately 10 minutes, or until the marshmallows begin to brown.

5. Grab a whole handful before anyone else sees that you made them. Trust me.