The Spawn moved out last week and he took my recliner with him. He wanted it for some reason. I don’t recall him sitting in it all that much and I certainly didn’t sit in it because I thought it smelled really weird, but whatever. I have to get rid of all of my furniture when I move anyway, so that was kind of a no-brainer for me. Sure, kid. Take the cat fart catcher with you. Please!

With the absence of the recliner, my living room seating situation was now incredibly lopsided. All I have beyond a small sectional is an office chair. That could not stand! Nor could my guests, so I decide to buy a bean bag…

Did I NEED a bean bag? No. They’re tacky, impractical, and outdated (I suppose the same could be said for me on occasion). Did that stop me? Clearly not.

Now don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t a wildly impulsive purchase. The kid and I discussed buying one a while back (it’ll go live with him when I leave as well). I researched the heck outta the stupid things before I purchased one as well. I am cheap and am also occasionally smart enough to read the fine print on item descriptions. I didn’t want to end up with a toddler-sized one or even just a big empty bag. I am not Santa, I don’t need that nonsense. I like my nonsense to come completely assembled, especially when it comes in the form of a massive amount of fluff that’s meant to be confined in something smaller than it. Me trying to tackle that would be a disaster of epic proportions.

I finally decide on one that had a photo of an actual adult sitting on it and that had okay reviews. Photos aren’t always accurate and I assume it’s actually on the smallish side, but that’s fine. Better than nothing and besides, the giant ones are expensive. This thing was under a hundo, so right in my range for unnecessary furniture.

It arrives today while I am at work. A big ol box and oh man, is it heavy!! I have to sort of roll it into the house because there is no way in hell that I could lift it solo. I eventually get it dumped out of said box onto the living room floor. The instructions come tumbling out with it. Yes, instructions for a bean bag. Whatever, I’ll read the damn things. “Take it out of the plastic blah blah blah…blah…may take up to five days to fully expand.” Uhh…okay? There’s no way this thing is big enough to warrant that statement.

Okay. This seems to be fine. I bet it will be big enough for my fatass to sit on.

A bit more…

In the next one you have Carole Baskin for scale (Yes, the cat is named Carole Baskin. No, I did not name her. I certainly wouldn’t have named her Carole. That’s my least favorite human’s name. Wait, no…humans have souls…ehhhh, that’s a whole different rant…). These pictures really don’t do it justice. It’s kinda like how everyone knows my chihuahua is tiny because of pictures, but you don’t realize how tiny he really is until you see him in real life.

We now have a bit of a problem. My $98 bean bag from parts unknown (the Walmart dot com has some Temu quality shit on there. A child or twenty might be in said bean bag trying to escape from the factory) has now taken up a quarter of my living room. You might recall me saying that the instructions claim it could take up to FIVE DAYS to expand. I took it out of the box around three pm. It is now 7:06 as I write this. At this rate, I’ll be living out of the back half of the house exclusively by noon tomorrow for it will have engulfed my entire living room. If you don’t hear from me, I have been swallowed by a giant purple bag of fluff. Please tell my kid and my husband that I love them or some junk.

(I’m sure I am just being a bit dramatic. I’ve been told I can be somewhat dramatic at times. I’m sure it’ll stop growing soon enough. Everything will be fine. Just fi….)

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