As you might recall, I had a new couch on my Christmas list this year.  And yes, it was one of those “unrealistic” items that I didn’t actually anticipate being fulfilled by Santa (or anyone else, for that matter); but KC and I had been dreaming about a new couch nonetheless.

See, we actually bought a couch not that long ago — 3 years ago, to be exact.  It was our first big purchase together, and we went and bought a sofa from Crate and Barrel after I finally got a job in 2010.  The story of that sofa is kind of long, but basically, we bought the sofa in summer, and finally got it delivered in December 2010.  And it’s a great sofa — it was perfect for our little 500-square-foot abode.

But then we moved last year.  And since then, I’ve been dreaming of a new sofa.  A big sofa.  A big, squishy, take-a-nap-on-it sofa.  Because KC likes to LAY on the couch.  All 6-feet-2-inches of him likes to sprawl out, so I’m left squished up against one arm with a puppy on my lap and nowhere to put my feet.

The worst.

So, we’d been casually scouting out the Crate and Barrel Outlet for our new dream sofa.  For months we’d been going most weekends, and had found nothing.

But then, we found something.  We found a sofa!  A big, smooshy, overly-comfortable, fall-asleep-on-it-instantly sofa!  And, because it was at the outlet, it was wayyyy less than the regular store price.

So we bought it.  And we even paid to have it delivered.

The sofa was delivered 2 days later, and here’s how it went down:

• Delivery men show up with the sofa and spend 20 minutes trying to get it past the decorative entry-archway of our 1926 house to get it in through the front door.  It doesn’t fit.
• They say they have to go, get KC to sign the sheet, then take off, leaving the sofa in the front yard.
• KC sits on the front porch for a solid half-hour, measuring every angle of this beast, trying to figure out how to get it into the house.
• KC tells me there’s no way it’s going to fit through the archway — it’s mathematically impossible.
• I have an internal mental breakdown where my sofa dreams are crushed, I curse the Outlet’s final sale policy, and imagine how it will be to sell a sofa from the front yard.
• KC comes inside the house to troubleshoot — “We might be able to get it in through the window,” he says.
• KC texts all his friends to see who’s around, then leaves to purchase moving blankets at Home Depot.
• I stay home and keep an eye on the sofa in the front yard.  I have visions of someone coming and scooting off with our new giant purchase on top of their car.
• KC returns and says his work friend will be over soon, then starts removing the window from the window frame.
• We both discuss how awesome it is that he got a drill (which he won’t stop calling “a screwdriver”) for Christmas.
• The FedEx guy shows up while I’m in the front yard, I jokingly ask him if he wants to help move a couch through a window.  He is immediately down to help, much to our surprise.  We thank him, but turn him away because KC is still working on removing the windows and we don’t want to slow down his route.
• KC gets the windows off and his friend shows up shortly thereafter.
• The idea that 2 guys are going to hoist a giant couch up 7+ feet and get it through a window is not computing for me.  I’m terrified.
• Much to my surprise, they hoist it up the 7 feet as I attempt to guide it into the living room through the window.
• I have visions of the couch snapping in half and/or somehow ripping the window frame apart.
• Weirdly, the couch somehow fits through the 35-inch-wide window frame, and makes it into the house.

So anyway, that’s how we got our new couch.