This is the sofa in our family room. It's a really big sofa. It would fit at least 4 and probably more people seated comfortably. And yet, usually it's just the two of us, sprawled and lounging even more comfortably.
Although there is no assigned seating, Tim always sits on the left side directly facing the television. I generally sit on the right side with my feet up on the chaise part. I might be watching TV, but I also might be reading, or writing or doing something on my tablet. If it's chilly (to me) I have my nice soft blanket rolled up and ready to snuggle under.
The ottoman has two trays on it. That's because those nice soft giant ottomans are not flat and even surfaces and are therefore terrible for setting food and/or drinks on it. I mention this because, although I did not realize it at the time that we made this particular furniture selection, most dinners in our house are eaten here.
I foolishly assumed that we would be eating at our kitchen table. Silly me. I might have chosen an actual coffee table as opposed to a giant ottoman if I had known. Oh well, one makes do, right? It's no big deal. Even though Tim enjoys his TV, he has always been wonderful about hitting mute or pause on the remote if I am talking and he never ever acts as if he wants me to hurry up and finish what I'm saying. If we are having a conversation, he is fully engaged. It's a compromise on his part, I am reasonably sure. So, yes we eat dinner in front of the TV in the family room, but conversation still happens. Ok.
Here is the reason for this lead up:
Yesterday, while I was vacuuming the sofa, (yes I vacuum our sofa) I noticed what an absolute slob I am! Holy Cats! Tim's side of the sofa was immaculate. Oh his pillows are dented and lumpy from being beaten into submission on a regular basis, but other than a stray thread there was nothing to vacuum up. My side however, looked as if someone has been throwing out crumbs to feed the birds. What the heck??
Now I will say in my defense, that I find it awkward as all get out to eat on the sofa. If I try eating normally, as one would at a table, the mouth to plate ratio is all wrong. The height differential I mean. But leaning wwwwaaaayyyy forward and down to the food would be clumsy and dangerous and I risk falling forward into my food. On the other hand, lifting the plate higher and closer toward me as I eat is a delicate balancing act. My balance has never been good. Then too, I am rather........animated, shall we say? I gesture when I talk. I draw pictures in the air as I speak. When dining ala sofa, this becomes a risky proposition.
On the other hand, Tim's table manners are exquisite. All of his siblings as well. It was something I noticed fairly early in our relationship. Obviously, his parents took the time and effort necessary to teach all of those Humphreys kids how to dine. Not just eat but to dine. There is a different and I am envious. He makes it look so easy and natural.
I try, but it's not second nature to me. I wasn't raised that way. Oh I don't mean that we ate like pigs in a trough for heaven's sakes but first of all, unless my Dad was home, which wasn't all that often, we didn't eat actual meals. We just foraged. We ate, please understand, nobody went hungry, it was just, whenever someone was hungry, they prowled the fridge and the cupboards until they came across something that appealed and they ate that. Done. We didn't chew with our mouths open or belch at the table but which fork to use? There was only ever one fork at any table I ate at so it wasn't even a question. Elbows on the table? Probably. I was usually reading as I ate. An elbow helped prop up a good book. Singing at the table? Often and sometimes in three part harmony. Spills? Frequently happend. I've never been graceful and y'know the talking with my hands thing.
I thought I had gotten better. I've really made an effort to improve my table manners, using Tim as my model. In fact I would have had to improve. It would have been hard to have gotten worse. One of our first formal dates was at a nice restaurant. I was nervous. I hadn't gone on an actual serious "date" in a long time. One of the first things I did was to bump my knife accidentally which made it hit my water goblet. It tipped dangerously, I went to right it and instead managed to knock it completely over where the water ran across the table and into Tim's lap. GROAN! Let's see, as I recall I also somehow flipped a cherry tomato, with dressing on it of course, off my salad plate, airborn and onto the floor. Scraped my knife against my plate while cutting which makes that awful metal against ceramic sound that sets people's teeth on edge. And ended up wearing at least a little bit of my dinner on my shirt. I'm shocked that there was a second date.
So I suppose compared to that, I have indeed improved. But clearly there is still work to be done. I'm so embarrassed. I thought I was such a neat and tidy person all this time and yet, the truth of the matter is, I am the worst slob in this household! Too bad we don't have a dog. Then I'd only be the second worst.
Yup, this is me. Some people said, "Sam, you should write a Blog". "Well, there's a thought", I thought to myself. And so here it is.