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" If it all came down to me, our new couch wouldn&amp;#039;t be arriving today. But my husband is in charge, so we&amp;#039;re going to have furniture to sit on in our new family room this Thanksgiving. It&amp;#039;s not that he&amp;#039;s more organized than I am. It&amp;#039;s that he&amp;#039;s got good karma. And boy, does that tick me off. This summer, when my husband, Pete, and I decided to buy a sectional couch for our new family room, I knew exactly what I had in mind: something comfortable, stain-proof and not too expensive \u2013 in a nice sage green.  But it took Pete a painfully long time to catch up to me. First, he researched sectionals online. Then he visited a few furniture stores, bringing along his measuring tape and the dimensions of the room. When he got home, he drew several possible sizes for the sectional right onto the plywood floor, still under construction, and pretended to sit on them while his sister and I watched with amusement.  All this for a couch. And yet, he wasn&amp;#039;t done with his research. He agonized over whether we should go with a J-shaped or an L-shaped sectional. He went online, presumably to look up fabrics. I dunno. By August, I had lost interest. Then he went back to the store again to ask questions. When he returned, he gave me a dissertation on micro-fiber, which is some sort of stain resistant faux suede-like material, and asked me for my opinion. I told him I just wanted him to get whatever will take the kids the longest to ruin. I don&amp;#039;t want to have to go through all this couch contemplation again for a long, long time. I figured he had all the information he needed to order the couch, but apparently not. When September arrived, I asked him, &amp;quot;How long does it take for the couch to be delivered?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Six to eight weeks,&amp;quot; he replied. I counted the weeks until Thanksgiving, and pictured my family sitting on bean bags, eating hors d&amp;#039;oevres, in our new family room, while I passed around drawings of our future sectional. &amp;quot;Perhaps you should order the couch soon?&amp;quot; I suggested, but he just stared at the empty room with a worried look on his face, as though I&amp;#039;d just asked him to donate his spleen or something. Finally, after a few more weeks passed, I insisted that he order the *! couch. Reluctantly, he drove to the store. Thirty minutes later, my phone rang.  &amp;quot;I just want to make sure you understand what micro-fiber is,&amp;quot; he started. &amp;quot;I want you to get whatever will keep you from having heart failure if a child&amp;#039;s foot is anywhere near the couch,&amp;quot; I said.  &amp;quot;Plastic?&amp;quot; he laughed. &amp;quot;Plastic and guard dogs,&amp;quot; I replied, and I hung up. He ordered the couch \u2013 and then it didn&amp;#039;t arrive. Ten days before Thanksgiving, the furniture store clerk called to tell me that our couch wouldn&amp;#039;t even &amp;quot;come out of production&amp;quot; until a few days before the holiday. I took this to mean that I should start picking out bean bags. But, because Pete was the one who ordered the couch, karma swooped in to save the day.  Yesterday, the furniture clerk called to ask if I&amp;#039;d be available to take delivery of the couch today \u2013 before Thanksgiving. In fact, it arrived while I was writing this. Naturally.  My husband may make slow decisions, be he has good karma. How else can you explain why he always gets a good parking spot. Or why he won a car \u2013 yes a car \u2013 from Burger King, while I won fries. Small fries, in fact. Yet if I had been the one who ordered the couch (likely, three months ago), it would have been delayed in production after running out of sage green material whereupon I&amp;#039;d have to settle for forest green or fuchsia. It would be have been shipped to Utah where it would sit in the airport during a blizzard before finally arriving at my house a month later, only for me to discover that the micro-fiber had been recalled. And somehow I&amp;#039;d be charged for it all.  But my husband? He gets his couch, no problem, and my family can leave their bean bags at home this Thanksgiving. When Pete gets home from work tonight, no doubt he&amp;#039;ll inspect every inch of our new couch before he asks me what I think of it. And then I&amp;#039;ll say, &amp;quot;Do you he really think the micro-fiber was a good choice?&amp;quot; You know, just for fun. I hope karma has a sense of humor. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/parenting/a2184/good-grief-112007/>