Mr. Johns and I have very different tastes. If he had his way, our home would be filled with speakers, massive televisions and two arm chairs. Period. Nothing else. When I married him, that’s all he had–no joke! I, on the other hand, like pretty things. I like mirrors and picture frames, sideboards and accent tables. Our taste is about as opposite as possible, so when we bought a couch about five years back, there was one–literally ONE–that we could both live with. It was a couch shopping marathon.
Well, we recently decided that we needed more seating in our living room, and my husband has been wanting a chair for a long while. Every time he mentioned it, I’d say, “Well, we’ll have to choose it together.” That put off the purchase for several months, until a couple of weeks ago, when we bit the bullet and started shopping.
A chair shouldn’t be that big of a deal, really, but it WAS! I wanted something pretty, something elegant, something that spoke of history and stories…
I’d been putting off this shopping trip for months because I just couldn’t bring myself to buy some ugly monstrosity for our living room, but when we got into the store, something changed. It was just one of those quiet realizations as we wandered around show rooms…
You know how they tell you that if you had a perfectly clean home then you’d also have no children in it? Well, if I had a perfectly decorated home, I’d also have no husband in it. And our home, and my heart, would be empty without him.
Don’t get me wrong, my husband would never leave me over a chair. In fact, if push came to shove, he’d probably consent to whatever chair I chose if I really dug my heels in. I suppose the beautiful chair in my mind’s eye no longer seemed to matter quite so much anymore, and I said, “Just no cup holder, okay, honey?”
This is the chair we got.
And THAT, ladies, is Love!
Because I really, really like wing back chairs.
And that thing is hideous.