Jul. 04, 2013 - 6:44 a.m.

The Lovebirds.

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This past weekend was NewWifey(tm)'s and my 12th Anniversary. We decided to celebrate by buying a reclining loveseat.

You know the honeymoon is over when you mutually agree not to buy each other anything on your anniversary, not even a card, because you'd rather have a piece of furniture.

But we really needed this furniture. For the past several years we'd been plopping our asses down on a non-reclining loveseat, which was injudiciously purchased at IKEA for the sole reason that it came in a box. Being in a box allowed it, along with a matching armchair and sofa, to be carried home in the very same Ford Escape that NewWifey(tm) re-exhausted in a recent entry. Which meant, no outrageous delivery fee!

And just like that Ford Escape, it turns out that IKEA sofas, armchairs, and non-reclining loveseats are about as comfortable as sitting on a durian fruit. Most of the time we ended up watching TV sitting on the ottomans. Even the cat wouldn't curl up in them.

Last weekend, then, we decided enough was enough. Our asses deserved better. We got into the Escape and headed out on a line that didn't intersect any IKEA stores along the way, in order to do some furniture huntin'.

As we were stopped at a traffic light on Rt.94 in Warwick, though, a ball of feathers bobbing wildly up and down not ten feet from the road caught my eye.

"Hey look" I said to NewWifey(tm), who was intently trying to get through her next Candy Crush level in the passenger seat. "Those birds are having sex on that guy's lawn!"

"What kind of birds?" she asked, without looking up.

"What kind of birds?" I said. "What difference does it make? It's birds! Having sex! LOOK!"

"What kind of birds?"

The light was about to turn green.

"I dunno, robins maybe? Tough to tell - ah shit, he pulled out and flew off. What the hell, bird sex only lasts like 8 seconds? Is this their version of bull riding or something? Anyway, yeah, it looked like a robin that just did the deed and took off without even promising to call her. You better be thankful I'm not a robin."

The light turned green and I pulled away.

A minute later: "Are you sure it was a robin? Not a red-breasted nuthatch?"

"A red-breasted what-hatch? What the hell are you talking about?"

"A red-breasted nuthatch" she said. "They look kinda like robins, but with a black stripe over their eye. And they're smaller. If they'd have been red-breasted nuthatches I would have looked."

"Black stripe over...have you been studying ornithology behind my back?"

"No. I just like red-breasted nuthatches."

"Not robins?"

"Ew. No. Red-breasted nuthatches are much cuter. And they're really hot when they fuck."

"Wait - you're...you're into bird porn??"

"Don't judge me. I've seen your search history on RedTube, mister. I didn't even know what a capybara was before I met you. Who does that?? Besides, I am NOT into "bird porn". I just think red-breasted nuthatches are hot when they fuck."

"And not robins."

"Eww. I told you, no."

"But I thought bird sex was all the same: the boy bird brings the girl bird a half eaten worm, she falls for it, and he hops on. A week later there's an egg and tearful recriminations."

NewWifey(tm) looked at me like I just told her I'd dug up my mom's corpse and was taking it to a Gwar concert after dinner. "Don't talk to me" she said, and went back to crushing candies.

The rest of the trip passed in silence, and without any more carnal bird sightings. We canvased 2 or 3 furniture places, and in one of them found a recliner we both agreed was butt-worthy and not too garish. Since this wasn't an IKEA though, we couldn't shoehorn it into the Escape. We paid the outrageous delivery fee and went home. Again, in silence.

Yesterday it was delivered while I was at work, and by the time I got home NewWifey(tm) had re-arranged the entire living room to make it fit. The corgi was already barking at the mechanism.

Lemme tell you, my ass is now VERY happy. Which means all of me is happy. There is absolutely nothing in the word like coming home after a hard day of pretending to work and sinking so far into an overstuffed recliner that you're practically invisible.

NewWifey(tm) is pretty thrilled too. One of her favorite features is the thick, pleated, corded cloth upholstery. It's a very effective fart muffler. Now she doesn't have to jump up and give some crazy excuse as she sprints to the basement every 20 minutes ("I forgot to clean the lint trap in the dryer! It could explode if I do socks later!".

By now of course, the whole bird porn incident had long blown over and we were back to our lovey-dovey selves. We christened the loveseat "Pearl" since the 12th anniversary is the pearl anniversary. And even though we didn't exchange gifts, we decided to belatedly go ahead with our other anniversary traditions: port and blue cheese, and fucking like mink. Which we did, on Pearl.

As we were sprawled out afterwards with the recliner fully extended, naked and smeared with blue cheese crumbles, I said "Man, sex in a recliner ROCKS! Didja see how I adjusted the back up and down to get at you from different angles? And cushy! I felt like I was fucking the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. How was it for you?"

She thought for a minute. "Well...you're no red-breasted nuthatch."

"Was I at least better than a robin?"

"Ew. Of course. You're kind of in the middle. Maybe a cormorant."

"Alright, I'm moving up! You remind me of a bird too, you know."

"Oh yeah? Which one?"

"A swallow."

She settled back. "It's a new recliner. I just don't know if this cloth stains yet."

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Ciao kids, and a happy 4th of July to all my amigos Americanos! BTW, if you're looking for an interesting way to pass the time this summer, might I suggest bird watching? Turns out it's pretty rewarding. You might even get a swallow!

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