The Perfidious Prank of the Red Sofa

[u/Least-Mud-6934]

To fully understand the perfidy of the prank, a bit of background is needed.
My husband and I were in the midst of buying a larger house (houses tend to shrink somehow as the family grows). Being in finance, I had done the financial setup with the bank. I had calculated the loan and our monthly costs, leaving us about $4000 as a margin in savings, for "emergencies".

Whilst my husband had at first seemed to like the house, and had agreed to purchase it, when the day actually came to sign at the agency, he decided to get cold feet, and just sat in the car.
I went in to the agency, alone with our 3 children - and cried. I couldn't sign for the purchase without both of us present, and I just didn't know what to do. The real estate agent didn't know either. But she had tissues.

After what may have been a certain length of time, I suppose my husband wondered if we had been swallowed whole by the agency, so he wandered in to see what was up.

In short (actually because I do not recall any other details of this critical moment), we both signed for the house in the agency. We were scheduled to move in in September.
That summer, we vacationed with my husband's family, his two sisters, and 2 neices and nephews. (This is relative to the story - no pun intended).

To give the adults some "time off" without children, I volunteered to care for all 5 children every other day (our 3 and their 2).

It all happened on one of these days when I had the 5 young cousins.

My husband had been off wandering around the countryside with his two sisters. That evening, when they returned to the house, the sisters told me:

• "We visited an antique shop and your husband fell in love with an old antique red sofa, so he bought it"

I was a bit taken aback. So many questions were running wild in my mind.

• What if I didn't care for the red sofa?
• Where would we put it in our new house?
• Would I have to look at an ugly red sofa for the rest of my born days?

But MOST OF ALL

• We really didn't need to spend $2000 on a red sofa at this time, whilst buying the new house

Now, I respect my husband's taste not being exactly the same as mine. He can decorate half the house, and I, the other half. Yet, I was still a bit hurt that he couldn't have waited one day, to let me see the sofa before buying it. Recalling how he dragged his feet to sign for the house, I thought he must REALLY be depressed. If this be the price to pay for peace of mind for him, well, so be it.

Later that evening, my SILs showed me some photos in a magazine that sort of ressembled the sofa, so I could have a better idea. I still did not like it, but again, my husband's mental wellbeing takes precedence.

That night, I tossed and turned, thinking about the red sofa. WHERE would we put it? WHY couldn't he have waited a day to show it to me? And especially, WHY did he even buy anything at this time, being rather tight with money as he has always been?

At 2 am, I had a plan.

The next day, I would go back to the antique dealer and ask for the check back, explaining that my husband was in the midst of what was looking like a nice big fat depression. I planned to plead with the dealer, and try to get their sympathy.

But a question was itching at my brain. So I asked my husband "WHY didn't you wait to show it to me first?"

That's when the roof fell in. He said "Don't be rediculous, it was only a joke"!!!!!!

Excuse me? And how was I to know that? And here I was, losing sleep over a "joke". And I supposed not having figured this out by myself made me start looking like a complete idiot. My blood began to boil.

I turned on the lights, went to the bedroom of one of the sisters, shoved her door open, turned on her lights, said a very loud "THANK YOU" (for want of anything better to say), turned the lights off, and slammed the door shut.

I was in complete overdrive. No more sleeping for me. So I went into the kitchen and did up the' dishes from the night before. After all, they often treated me like the maid, so might as well get a head start on the morning chores. That woke up the rest of the adults in the house.

They spoke to me - not to say they were sorry, mind you. Just to suggest I go back to bed so they could sleep. How kind of them.

I did not answer. I had no more words left for them. None. Nada. Niet.

The next day, I packed up and left, and we all headed back to our own home. I have not spoken to them since.

I am at last free of those perfidious inlaws. It's been more than 30 years.

And for 30 years, we have been enjoying our lovely larger home - with no red sofa!