I know what love is, so it seems silly to say that I "love" and inanimate object, but barring my family, the couch is the one thing that has always been there for me.
When I was home sick from school, I would snuggle in it and watch soap operas.
I napped, cried, sang, danced, stretched, slept, watched movies, TV, studied, ate breakfast/lunch/dinner (especially when I was all by myself) on my cozy, comfy, comforting couch!
I love it!
how can I not?
As I sat on the cushions today, after a tedious 12 hour work day up to my elbows in dirty dishes, feeling gross and ugly changing into a huge flannel shirt and comfy jeans, and I lovingly patted the pillows and said:
"That 'ill do pig. that 'ill do" And fell asleep.
Nothing says "love" like a well deserved nap.
obviously the couch loves me, and I love him!
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