You go with your husband and buy a new couch set. It's lovely.
Kids haven't destroyed it (yet) and you'd love for it to stay that way for at least a week, two if you're freaking brilliant and the stars align just so, and your kids aren't out to get you for something. (Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.)
^ Love Seat ^ Couch
You bring it home, and you make the big mistake of forgetting about the hell you went through to bring the first set in when you moved in.
You do in fact manage to get it inside the house. On the main floor. Where your kids go ape shit bat crazy and destroy things.
So, you plan your attack for a few days. Did I mention that you managed to convince your in laws to take two of the kids for the weekend?
Well, it's obvious the weekend is over. That set needs to get out of harms way before it's too late. The baby has already managed to pee on it. (Sigh).
You need it to get into the den and pronto.
So, you attempt to move it through your upstairs livingroom, into the landing and down the stairs. Shit. The couch is too wide to fit through the damn door at the top of the stairs at the landing.
You finally manage to get it back outside the house, in one piece. (Insert round of applause here, please).
This is the point in the story where your husband tells you that it won't fit through the side yard door. You have to lift it over your head. (This is where the cursing your husband happens)
So, you get it over the fence, into the yard. You're now at the door leading inside to the landing with the door thats too small, and a tight corner leading downstairs.
Again, you try to regroup and plan an attack.
And fail. Miserably.
And that's when you realize you could have squeezed that couch through that doorway that was too small half an hour ago. You round the corner and end up back in your livingroom.
Where your new couch set is destined to be destroyed. Within the week.