The story about The Rug

Standard

This story has nothing to do with children. It ought to help me deserve that Versatile Blog Award. It will also serve the purpose of telling a little bit about myself; although, not necessarily a part I’m proud of. Nevertheless, my sister called this story “beautiful,” so I hope you enjoy it too.

My brother-in-law’s family moved to our town from out of state nearly two years ago. They bought this big beautiful house only a couple of miles away. Once they were settled in, we were pleased to get the tour. There was much to be impressed by, but to me the best part was to be found in a more remote room of the house.

In this room, I became transfixed by The Rug. It was a vision in 5×7. The walls and ceiling melted away. The voices of my family faded out. A brilliant white light shone around the rectangle on the floor.

None of that is true, of course, but the point is, The Rug was gorgeous. Undoubtedly it was the most beautiful rug I’d ever seen. It had all the elements of my ideal piece of floor covering: flowers and leaves in smokey blue, sage green, and varied shades of brown. It was friggin’ awesome. I seriously had a hard time taking my eyes off it.

My sister-in-law thought she had bought it at Target, but it had been a while ago. I checked Target. Nothing. Macy’s? Nope. Sears? J.C. Penney? Heck, evenΒ  Walmart? No. No. Nada. I moped a bit, but decided that I didn’t really need a rug anyway. I had to move on.

Months later at my in-laws once more, I sneaked over to that back room to look at The Rug again. I lied to myself that it wasn’t really that beautiful. I could live without it. I sighed and closed the door quietly behind me.

As time passed I had all but forgotten about The Rug until a friend’s Facebook picture of her family playing on their pretty rug spurred me to look once more for a beautiful rug of my own. It would be nice to have one at the foot of our bed to add some pizzazz to the room, I argued with myself.

I began my search in a couple of stores I’d tried before, hoping for new merchandise, and then checked many more places on-line. Some rugs came close but none really quite did it for me. My rug search made me weary, and I finally decided to give it up.

A day or two later we went to Lowes for plants and other odds and ends. I decided to take a glance at the rugs while we were there. What the heck. I had already given up on finding The Rug. Now I would just be happy with A Rug that I actually liked. Surprisingly, I found one! Lowes even had the size I needed in stock. We bought it, took it home, rolled it out at the foot of the bed, and were pleased with it.

A couple of weeks later I again was at my in-laws. Even though I knew it would give me a pang to once more visit The Rug, I had to see it one more time. It was a dangerous move. It might just make me sad that my rug was inferior to The Rug that I could never have. A part of me was hoping that seeing The Rug again would make me realize that it was never really that great to begin with.

I was wrong.

I slowly opened the door, looked down, and laughed.

The Rug was My Rug. I had bought the very same rug!

I’m sure there’s a lesson to be found in this story. But I don’t know what it is. Hopefully you’re able to take something from it. And of course, I can’t leave you without providing a picture of The Rug, or that is, My Rug, as it sits at the foot of our bed. Please don’t leave any negative comments about it. My heart won’t be able to take it. πŸ˜‰

Surely I can’t be the only one out there who has a strange attachment to an inanimate object in their home, yard, or garage. (If I had an original Ford Mustang I might forget about My Rug.) Feel free to share. It’s safe here.

Advertisements

13 responses »

  1. Hey, nice rug.
    I had a car once that I was attached to. I was working for Domino’s and had a 1988 Chevy Cavalier, no power steering, paint peeling, ski rack on top…it was a sweet ride. Put on some very expensive snow tires (lived in MN) and cruised around handing out pizza’s. What a life. Then a drunk driver from England hit me in a head on collision because he thought he was at home….Yes. I was too attached. Still miss that old car.

    Like

  2. Betsy
    Until I saw the picture, I was sure you were describing my rug (albeit much more descriptively than I could’ve). I got my rug (a vision in 8X10) at Target, and I loved it so much that I paid almost $150 in shipping to get the size I needed. We have to budget, budget, budget all the time, but hubbie okayed the purchase because he knew that not another rug in the world would make me happy. I’m glad you found the perfect one too. Great story.
    Teresa

    Like

    • I know, right? I suppose because it had been roughly a year and a half since I’d seen it, for one thing, and because I had already given up on finding it, I thought that whatever I ended up with would be “settling,” and I’d plain forgotten what it looked like! Of course, if I had seen the rug, wanted the rug, and found and bought it right away, what kind of a story would that have made? πŸ™‚

      Like

  3. I just love this story!!! Ok, and maybe relate to completely! Reading this story, I was literally anxious because I too have coveted so wthing to the point of obsession, so I was nervous you wouldn’t find the rug…loved your telling of the story!! Just brilliant!

    Like

  4. That’s cute, Betsy. I think we all get attached to something. You must have really put it out of your mind to buy the exact rug. Someone’s looking out for you–enjoy!

    Like

  5. That’s so funny! I had no idea you were drooling over The Rug. It is a great rug, I’m glad you found it.

    Like

Share what you think of this story, or share one of your own!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s