When we visited Boden’s home, we met his son, Nash, who reminded us that comfort looks a little different when you’re seven. For Nash, home isn’t quiet. It’s fun. It’s full of movement, noise, and stories waiting to happen.
He loves that it’s close to school. Friends drop by, toys end up everywhere, and laughter fills the house long before dinner is ready. “It’s where all my toys and books are,” Nash says. “And where I can spend time with my family and play with my mum and dad and sister.”
The living room is small, but it’s the heart of the house. A basketball hoop takes up most of one wall, sitting right beside a stack of books and the front door. “There’s not a lot of space,” Boden says, “but Nash loves trying to score on me and laughing when I block his shot into the next room.”
When asked what he loves most about hanging out with his dad, Nash grins. “My dad isn’t very good at sitting still,” he says. “So I love it when he stops to watch a movie with me or play basketball.”
Some nights, the hoop takes a break and the mattresses come out. “Sometimes we have slumber parties,” Nash says proudly. “Dad puts all the mattresses on the floor, we eat popcorn in bed, and our dog Sunny always joins in.” It’s loud, messy, and absolutely perfect.
That’s where the Eclipse Sofa comes in. It’s part of the action. A launchpad for basketballs, a movie-night front row, and a place to crash when the popcorn runs out. It’s soft enough for naps, strong enough for everything else.
When asked what the sofa would say if it could talk, Nash doesn’t even pause. “It would say my sister covers it with too many toys and always spills food on it.” He laughs. Boden laughs. Sunny probably does too.
The Eclipse Sofa might be Boden’s calm, but for Nash, it’s adventure. It’s where the day starts, where games are played, and where life just happens. And when the laughter dies down, it’s where they all end up again, together.
