It's What I Do

For the longest time dr soc wanted a bench for shoe storage in our foyer-ish area for the 4 times a year people use the front door, and for the longest time I resisted. But with 16 people coming for Thanksgiving I finally acquiesced to it, but since I can be very particular when it comes to furniture, it was on me to find one we both liked.
So I found one on Amazon I liked and two days later (love Prime) it was on our doorstep. Dr soc assembled it, we put it in place and...it didn't look right.
Dr soc was indifferent on it but I liked it just enough to think about keeping it. So dr soc found another spot for it in the house because he loves me. But that spot made me indifferent on the bench. And then this conversation happened:

me: I'm fine with where that bench is. But you know that it's just going to become another spot I put stuff* on and clutter.
dr soc: But you don't have to put stuff there...
me: Yeah but I will. It's what I do.
dr soc: Yeah but you don't ...
me: It's what I do.
dr soc::sigh of resignation:: Can we send the bench back?
me: Yes. (once again, love Prime)
dr soc: Ok. Do it.

* he loves me decidedly less when the sprawl gets extra sprawly.