Wednesday, June 25, 2008

The Futon


Three years ago before my Lis' Senior year in college, she went shopping. Not the usual, "I need 20 new pairs of shoes and where did I see those sports bras on sale" type shopping. Lis was going to live in her first apartment. Kinda, well, pretty close to the real deal I guess. She scored one of the senior apartments with 3 other girls. Naturally she had to have a futon to cram into her 4 x 8 space everyone called "her room". I referred to it as "her closet".

Lis and my wife went futon shopping. I was spared the agony of the initial buying trip. They wisely left me home. As an ex-mover, I learned to hate specific types of furniture. Futons were definitely on the list. Or would have been had they been invented or popular back in the day when I grunted folk's furniture from the old home to the new one.

What is it with futons and kids in college? It has to be absolutely the most popular, first choice besides concrete block shelves for every American kid going after a college degree. It's as if a switch goes off when they hit college. The futon switch. Either that or Bob's Furniture and Mattresses R Us have figured out who to bribe to add some kind of hand out with each high school diploma. I can remember seeing the damn things being carted out of the dorms by the hundreds at the end of her Freshman year. Seeing their generally lightweight construction and poor shape after just one year of college, I decided that for the most part, they must be junk. I asked Lis what they were and she gave me one of the rolly eyed parents are such dopes look. "They are futons Dad. Jeez. I want one too." She was a hip sophomore after all. Not some dumb Freshman without a clue.

Bobbi Ann and Lis come home from futon shopping. They found one in Portland at some discount mattress place across from the Maine Mall. It was not in stock. They had to order it. A week later I am drafted to go pick it up. We get to the store and the clerk on duty looks at us like we have 3 heads when we ask for our futon. Awkward moments ensue as I begin steaming over finding out they sold it on us. But they can re-order. Never mind the Maine Mall is an hour drive from Acton. Never mind I hate the damn futons in the first place. This is the beginning of my hate-hate relationship with my little girl's first piece of furniture she picked out for herself.

I have now moved that damn futon 3 times and am about to cram it into yet one more moving vehicle. So far, I have taken it assembled and found a way to work it into the load. This time, I wanted my revenge. On the excuse that the trailer I rented may come up short on cubic feet for the cubic feet of stuff Lis has, I told her I was going to take it apart. She did not seem comfortable with the idea. Like it was some sort of magical machine that only "futon masters" duly licensed could take on. But she knew I was serious. That futon was coming apart. I was going to love every minute dinky piece I could break it down into. And that's what I did. With the exception of the mattress, I can pretty much fit the frame into a golf bag. Well a big golf bag maybe.

No more springing open just when I almost have it in it's spot in the truck. No more fighting it into an elevator or tight stairwell and then having it spring open. That futon is now under control. Unincorporated. Disassembled. Broken down to it's basic steel components. The evil has been unscrewed and freed to find some other piece of equipment to jinx. The futon will sit docile and behave on the way back to Maine. I have finally won.

The girls are at a AAA Baseball game tonight. I opted out. It's hot and I could really enjoy a few moments without one thing to do but relax. Watching a ball game just didn't do it for me. Besides Lis and Bobbi need some time alone to plan the next "Let's confound and befuddle Dad" escapade.

See Ya.

Post Script - I had no computer available nor the energy to post this when it should have been. It is now up under it's original post date , but actually I'm being sneaky and posting it Saturday night right after we found our driveway and are now home safe. Hauling that trailer was quite the trip.

7 comments:

Missy's Blog said...

So glad you and the family are safe and sound back home in Maine.

I laughed about this post ... we've never owned a futon. My BIL and SIL own one of these and have it for their overnight guests to sleep on. MY FIL AND MIL do not like sleeping on it ... LOL. They've even offered to buy them a new bed and mattress to replace it ... but BIL/SIL will not hear about replacing it.

El Cerdo Ignatius said...

Glad to hear you're home safe, Mike.

Daisy said...

I laughed at this, too! My daughter owns a futon, but it's a solid one that we bought from my own mother when she moved out of her home and into a senior living apartment. Oh, the first apt. - I took pictures when my daughter moved into hers. It's priceless.

Noah said...

I guess I'm not alone when I say I laughed my ass off at this.

You see, the story itself is not really funny at all. No, it's not.

It's the way you weave it. Absolutely priceless. A thousand internets to you, mister Crumudgeonator.

Demeur said...

Been there done that.
I was the one elected to assemble the darn thing the first time. A wood one and I swear the instructions were written by a chinaman just learning english. After three hours of studying the instructions and many false attempts I finally figured out that two critical pieces must be in the exact position or no go. The other agrevation was it's lack of two fancy lock washers that of course are sold only in packs of six.
Oh and don't you just love moving the mattress? Jimmy Hoffa would have been easier to move.

GJG said...

You mis-titled this post---it should have been, "Revenge of The Futon Killer"----and I assume that in the move certain key connecting pieces have somehow been "lost", and gosh a real bed will have to be purchased?

The Dude said...

what's wrong with a mattress on the floor? these kids today!