Journey to the Center of the Couch
by Kimberly J. Garrow

I was about to boldly go where no mother should ever have to go. I added extra protective layers over my regular domestic goddess uniform: bio-hazard suit, safety goggles, gas mask, extra long gloves and industrial boots. I admit I usually only tackled this unwelcome task when something important went missing (the TV remote, my secret chocolate stash, a child, etc.) or on an occasion, such as today, when I highly suspected that something was growing underneath that deep, dark abyss, also known as a couch to some (or a trampoline to others as was evident by all the bulging springs grazing the floor).

I did a nervous gulp as I pulled out the massive piece of furniture that had been permanently fixed in our living room. I immediately switched mothering modes, pushing aside the squeamish woman whose skin was now crawling at what she must inevitably face. In her place was “Scientist Mommy,” my more analytical alter ego, because sometimes a mom has to do what she can to survive the various callings of motherhood.

With tongs in hand, I pulled out the first unsolicited interlopers that were living in between the cushions of the couch. Even in this petrified state, I had identified the skeletal remains of an apple and a banana. Until further research was done, however, I could not conclude whether or not the remains were from a prehistoric fruit salad or something from a more recent era.

I confiscated and fumigated a lot of interesting items, many of which would need further DNA testing to properly identify. If I had to take an educated guess, though, I would have to say that the sippy cup (which had probably not seen the light of day since the beginning of time) was growing the cure against some horrible, unpronounceable disease. And I was relatively certain that at least a few of my discoveries would be featured in an International Science journal soon … perhaps a phone call from NASA was in my future as well.

Today’s journey to the center of the couch was actually quite fruitful. I’m not just saying that because of all the fossilized produce I found, either. In the end, I came across enough change to buy a Happy Meal and found a bonus coupon for a free cappuccino. However, my most lucrative find of the day: a partially eaten waffle that amazingly was the exact replica of Elvis’s head. I’m pretty sure that I could sell this rare and fabulous discovery to someone on eBay … and all six of my children would be able to go to college some day!

 
Kimberly J. Garrow is the author of “A Mother’s Journey: Through Laughter and Tears”. Follow her at kimgarrow.webs.com.