The story of my many couches begins before I was born. My deceased dog, Violet, was still a puppy, and had a habit of chewing anything in sight. At that moment we had a light grayish blue couch. Violet decided it was a fantastic chew toy, and somehow destroyed the couch that was at least five times her size.
The next couch came when I was born. It was blue with thin tan stripes. My older brother, Matthew, was being babysat by one of my mommoms. She went to the bathroom for around two minutes. When she came out my brother had made a hole in couch. We still aren't completely sure how he did it.
We then got an ugly blue couch. It was a hideous cookie monster blue. Nothing actually happened to that one, but it was so awful we just threw it out.
Our current couch is tan, and fairly puffy. I guess it's okay. It probably won't last very long. None of the others have. This couch, while I'm convinced it is slowly breaking apart, is probably my favorite so far.
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