There is a small rug that lies in the front hallway.
I prefer calling it “front hallway”, as the area is too small,
and not fancy enough to call a foyer.
The rug is striped, with eye-pleasing colors of blue and green.
I purchased it at a local shop, filled with so many unique items,
that I could spend HOURS of my time, exploring.
I like to position the rug at an angle,
between the stairs and the front door,
next to the over-flowing basket full of shoes.
And, I am not ashamed to admit that, somehow,
this little rug brings me happiness.
Every time I walk up or down the stairs,
I am pleased with how my rug looks –
its perfect size, colors, shape, and texture.
Every now and then, however, I find that the rug has been moved –
perfectly lined up, and parallel to the door.
“That’s just not right,” I think to myself.
With one push of my foot, I slide the rug back to the preferred position.
But, inevitably, it happens again.
So, again, I slide the rug back (with my foot) to the angled position.
I have never seen the culprit, but I currently live in an “all boy” house.
Even the dog is a boy.
And, I have yet to meet a male specimen
who does not prefer straight lines, to angles.
In fact, angles seem to cause them a physical uneasiness,
as if their world has, somehow, been threatened.
I remember when I angled the carpet in the living room.
“Why is the carpet like that?”asked one.
“You aren’t going to KEEP it that way, are you?”said the other.
That was several years ago.
Fortunately, that carpet is too heavy to move.
And, so it goes, over, and over again –
those who prefer straight lines, and those who prefer angles . . .
just trying to co-exist.