My wife and I are excited. We will soon be buying our first piece of “real” furniture – a leather sofa and loveseat. First, I should probably define the term “real”. Our first apartment, a cheap place in the farmlands of Sunderland, Massachusetts, consisted of all hand-me-down furniture or collectibles we found near the trash compactor. We were in college, and not concerned with the differences between, say, particle board and solid oak.

After we got married, we moved to another apartment, lugging our boxes of wedding gifts with us. Of course, the gifts consisted of mostly smaller items (dishware, appliances, photo frames) and not furniture. I have to admit it was mildly amusing displaying a beautiful Waterhouse crystal we received on top of a $9 coffee table from Ikea.

Ah, Ikea. Our love-hate relationship continues to this date. I hate it for its horrible quality chairs, uncomfortable loveseats (of which we are the reluctant owners of), and the ten hours I spent assembling a desk, table, entertainment center, and chair. I love it for its extremely reasonable prices, entertaining showroom, and absolutely delicious cafeteria food.

Considering the fact that we lived literally two minutes away from an Ikea, our apartment not surprisingly consisted of mostly Ikea furniture. And for the most part, it has worked out nicely – besides the aforementioned chair and loveseat.

Now my wife and I are packing up again, and moving to our fourth apartment in six years. We paid a bit more than we liked, but are ending up with a gorgeous place built literally two months ago. After coming home from signing our lease, we took a long look at our sad, depressed, pillowless couch and decided it was time for a new one.

So we made our way over to Jordan’s Furniture, a massive furniture store nearby. I had downed a few cups of coffee, stowed away an emergency Red Bull, and prepared for a long day of searching for a couch.

Yet as we stepped off the elevator into the sofa showroom, I saw it: A beautifully designed leather couch right smack in the middle of our price range. Hoping for the best, I slowly sank down onto the couch only to find … utter bliss. It was the perfect balance of firmness versus comfort, with a luscious leather covering that also proclaimed strong resistance to spills and stains. I hesitantly turned over the price tag to read the manufacturer details, and was pleasantly surprised to see that it met all of the standards of a good quality sofa.

Now that we have found the perfect couch for us, we have to try to swallow spending what still seems like a mind-boggling amount of money for some pieces of wood and cushions. I do try to keep reminding myself of a few things though. First, this is furniture – not exactly a luxury. Yes, it’s leather, but I did some research and leather couches cost about 10-30% more than fabric couches, and last three years longer (more considering how fond of scratching our cats our). Second, this would be the first purchase of “real” furniture we have made, from a furniture store besides Ikea. And third, of all the furniture in the house, couches are probably one of the most important pieces.

So now we arrive to the final financial question of this piece, which is whether to take the no interest, no payments for one year offer. My gut instinct is to not even consider the possibility. These are the type of plans I see offered in bright neon lights on late night television to people who spend money on things they can’t afford. I could buy the sofa and loveseat right now, paid in full, without a problem.

But is that the best decision financially? If I were to keep this money in a 4.25% interest bank account instead, I could make a decent chunk of change through interest over the year. The only negative is if I somehow forgot to pay the balance in full before the year was up. Considering I have never had a late payment on, well, anything, I would consider that fairly unlikely.

Either way, I know I cannot wait to relax in something besides a twelve year old, faded mustard couch missing back pillows and sporting hanging metal staples.