The time had come to say “good-bye”. His discomfort was painful to observe. This was a difficult moment and he was going to have to find some way to get through it. His separation anxiety had ratcheted to an all time high.
His favorite chair and ottoman were being replaced; banished forever. A huge hole remained in the space they had once occupied, taunting him with their absence. Shopping for new companion pieces was going to be difficult for him, but I would be sensitive and patient to ease the transition. I would try and disguise my glee at the opportunity to replace the Buick sized duo. I would diplomatically steer him to current options that featured comfort as well as style.
As soon as we arrived at the furniture store, my beloved headed straight for the recliners and I found myself in the ninth level of chair shopping hell. His eyes lit up when he spotted a huge, dark brown number with massive overstuffed arms. The gimongous power cord peering from underneath the chair was a huge clue this was not furniture Nate Berkus would embrace.
The salesperson, obviously suffering from too much caffeine, could scarcely conceal her glee at an opportunity to unload the ugly devil on someone who fit demographics most likely to appreciate its benefits. The chair did everything but make frozen margaritas. It reclined backwards at the touch of a button. She practically swooned as she demonstrated the chair tilted upward and forward, depositing its sitter upright, feet on floor with little effort.
Hubby informed perky salesperson; he did not require mobility assistance and left the store in a huff.
I am grateful to the overly zealous salesperson. Thanks to her, we are now the owners of a new chair that features comfort as well as style without a power cord.