Apparently, the cushions I have become accustomed to over the last few years have betrayed us in some way and have been evicted from the sofa and forced to live in the bin bag of shame. When asked as to what heinous crime they had committed that demanded immediate replacement with no discussion, she replied "They needed changing". This was a surprise because even when our son's nappy needed changing, there was at least some discussion, usually along the lines of "it's your turn, I did the last 10 while you were off having a great time at work" but at least I felt involved.

This means that key elements of my life that have been very supportive for a few years are being ripped from my tearful grasp and removed from her line of sight.

They could still be used as cushions as I was using them VERY HAPPILY so recently that my head print could still be seen in Colin, my favourite one. Failing that puppy or pet bedding or you could go for the cushion massacre and dismember Colin and the rest of his family to reuse the stuffing.

Either way, when you collect, give my partner a look of attitude and judgement for breaking our family apart.

Thanks

Alan and Angry Dwarf.

Bin bag full of cushions (S44 Glapwell)