Lumps and All

It's our current couch, actually. Passed down to us from our In-Law's, when we got it it had already shown signs of wear.

I put a couch cover on it in an attempt to hide the fact that the fabric is worn and torn, and the middle cushion no longer has functioning springs....so when you sit in the center of the couch, you are immediately swallowed up into its stomach. We have to warn people before they sit down. And despite the cover and the pillows I stuffed into its center, you can still tell that something is not normal about this couch...

I'm a bit like that couch, actually. Showing signs of wear and tear. Having deep places within myself, where I have to keep watch to make sure I, or someone I love, doesn't get swallowed up unknowingly. Like this couch, there is always a child jumping or laying on me, leaving toys on me...the couch's fabric is worn thin from all the "love" its received over the years, and although not as visible, so is my skin.

The cover is pretty, and goes along way with covering up the couch's flaws. But I always enjoy washing the covers, mostly because then for a full day, the couch is allowed to stand naked in its flawed glory...showing off its lumps and tears....showing off its years of love.

Sometimes, I like to take my covers off too.

Writing Challenge: Couches

Lumps and All