Of Sofas, Screwdrivers, and Surrendering to St. Vincent de Paul

There are a few things in life that humble a person faster than a Wayfair furniture delivery.

Not long ago, I had a grand vision: a sweet little dresser…simple, stylish, and perfect for our new townhome. The kind of piece that whispers, “I’m both charming and useful.” I clicked order, felt productive and confident…and a few days later, a box arrived that looked less like a dresser and more like an adult version of a 1,000-piece puzzle.

Naturally, our kind friend who usually helps us assemble these marvels of modern inconvenience was tied up. So, while I was out, Joe…bless his heart…decided to surprise me and take a stab at putting it together himself.

Reader, when I walked in the door, I found my sweet husband standing in a sea of oddly shaped boards and tiny mysterious hardware. His eyes said it all: “Please, just…no.”

He looked at me, as only a man who’s been bested by furniture can, and said with gentle desperation, “Can we please just donate this to St. Vincent de Paul?”

I paused. Then nodded. I mean, when your knight in shining armor has been defeated by an Allen wrench, sometimes the kindest thing you can do is let him off the battle field.

So off I went the next day, in search of a new, already assembled dresser. And lo and behold, I found one. A perfectly lovely piece that required zero instructions and exactly no tears.

But as I stood in the store, basking in the sweet glow of victory, I had a flash of anxiety about another piece I’d ordered: a 68-inch Lucia slipcovered sofa from (you guessed it) Wayfair. I’d placed the order on April 4, charmed by its cozy elegance and excellent reviews. What I hadn’t noticed…or perhaps chose to ignore…was the 13 to 14 week delivery window.

End of July.

I momentarily considered canceling it. I even tried. Briefly. But the cancellation process was more complicated than the dresser instructions…and I didn’t have the energy to launch another epic furniture saga.

So I made peace. I love the sofa. I’ll wait for the sofa. And when it arrives, I’ll probably throw a party just for it. (Camille and Anastasia will be invited, naturally.)

Sometimes the best decorating decision you can make is surrender.

And maybe the real furniture lesson isn’t how to assemble a dresser or how to outsmart a shipping delay…but rather how to keep your sense of humor, your grace, and your ability to say, “This is enough for today.”

Especially when your husband’s begging you to call St. Vincent de Paul.