Sofa … so good

The platitude goes something like…”she who rocks the cradle rules the world” but the truth is that “he who occupies the sofa rules the house.” You don’t believe me?

Then ask yourself why it is that all the things that matter in a house are conveniently congregated around this essential piece of furniture?

You have your coffee tables (in Kenya, would it not have been more accurate to call them tea tables?) and the rug for your toes.

Even the entertainment centre with its essential wide-screen LCD TV is placed directly in front of the sofa to ensure that the occupant has the best possible view. How can you possibly doubt that the sofa-dweller is a very special person?

The sofa-occupant is in a wonderful position to demand service from fellow house dwellers. “Bring me a bottle!” you bellow, and immediately it appears. The sofa is the new throne.

Instead of placing a fancy and uncomfortable seat in a high place where it forces everyone to look up at the occupant, it is more subtly effective to have the ruler seated at the point of command – a low, but obviously superior seat.

The sovereign appears benign but at the same time it is clear that he is in control of the mission. It is no accident that the remote control devices for the entertainment equipment are all placed near the hand of the sofa-sitter.

At the push of a button, he controls what we see, hear and, in the future, smell.

The sofa is the closest thing to a womb outside of a woman. It has arms to surround you, and a back upon which you can rest. It is soft, squishy and often dark. There is a convenient food point placed directly in front of you.

The sofa is not quite big enough to enable you to stretch out full length. Instead, it subtly encourages you to curl up into a foetal position, in memory of that wonderful nine months when you had not a care in the world except sucking nutrients from Mummy.

It is no surprise that human beings crash into the sofa at the end of a long, hard day, and it is often the place we choose to cry when life becomes too painful to bear.

The sofa provides a neat opportunity for strategic positioning. If you sit to one side – you gently encourage others to join you. If you sit in the middle leaning forward towards a televised sporting event, it signals to all that you are in place, about to play virtual football and should not be disturbed.

If you lie down, others must quietly depart from the room and leave you to rest. Only to join you on the sofa once you have taken possession of the space.

Is it any wonder then that the sofa is often the most expensive piece of furniture in the house? Without a word, the discerning visitor can use the sofa to calculate the average income of the home.

If several cows have been sacrificed or a tree has been intricately tortured (sorry carved) then we know that his sofa is supported by a healthy income. However, a moth-eaten sofa is often evidence that the caterpillars are already gorging themselves on the bank account.

But even the humblest of sofas tells its own story. The painful pinch from the old green sofa reminds you that the springs broke during one of the many happy hours you spent as a child bouncing on this ready-made, indoor trampoline.

A charred hole in the fabric is a memoir of your first cigarette and if you are bold enough to stuff your hand into the creases, you will find coins, pieces of chewing gum, buttons and other souvenirs of a careless youth.

Sit pretty this coming Saturday.

Kate Getao kategetao@yahoo.com