This afternoon we were out running errands. We went to a nearby strip-type shopping center to rent some movies, and while Husband and The Boy were deciding what to get, I popped into Linens N Things to see if they had anything interesting, since everything is on sale. I spent twenty minutes agonizing over whether to get a new chef's knife. There was a really cool one with a stainless handle on sale for fifteen dollars. I kept picking it up and putting it back, and finally decided to hang on to it while I looked in other departments, so I could get a better idea of how it was balanced.
Have I ever mentioned that I'm funny about knives? I used to have a thing. I don't any more, but I've never had a really good knife. Obviously, this wasn't a really good knife, because you can't get a really good knife for fifteen dollars, even on sale, but it was a better knife than any of the knives I have now.
In any case, I was walking through Linens N Things, waving my knife, when a rug caught my eye. Not literally, because that would hurt. But it was a very eye-catching rug, and it was wool, and it was big, and I liked it, and it was 80% off. Just this morning, as I was straightening the living room, I was thinking that I wished I had a bigger rug in there. Normally I would file this under the ever-growing "coincidence" folder, but I think the same thing pretty much every time I walk into that room. Which is every day, because our house isn't that big, and so there isn't a room I don't walk into every day, except the master bathroom, which is still not finished, so thanks so much for bringing that up.
So, I'm thinking I really, really ought to get this rug, because this Thanksgiving will be the eighth anniversary of us moving into this house, and I have spent those eight years thinking pretty much every day that I want a bigger rug. And then there was the whole 80% off thing. Which got even better, because the lady offered me an even better price. Which meant I could get the new bigger rug for the same price I paid for the old smaller rug twelve years ago, and which I hope didn't have anything to do with me waving a knife.
But it was a quandary. Because if I got the rug home and didn't like it, I couldn't return it. And the style of it was very, very different than the old rug, so I wasn't entirely sure it would go with the furniture and curtains.
What to do? The answer was obvious - I called my mother and asked her opinion. She very nicely dropped everything, drove over to the store, and took a gander at the rug. She wasn't entirely convinced until I told her the price, and then she told me I was crazy not to buy it. So I did. And we brought it home, and I put it in the living room, and I love it.
But in all the excitement, I forgot to buy the knife.