Do you ever have a moment where you just have to laugh at your own stupidity? When you make such a dumb error and it’s so ridiculous that you just have to sit down on the floor and giggle?
I had one of those moments recently.
It all started with a Pinboard. My Dining Room Pinboard, to be exact.
I had this vision of a metal and wood table, my black china cabinet, and a large, red, Persian rug. I was a little concerned since I had to find something that would complement my new china. However, I stumbled across the pretty lady on the right via Etsy.
She was perfect. Perfect colors, perfect patterns, perfect price. The Etsy shop, a little rug store in Italy, was selling it for $370. A steal, right?! Absolute deal of the century! And, after doing some quick measurements in my head, I determined it was the perfect size for the dining room. I sprinted for my purse, whipped out my credit card, and the deed was done. My fate had been sealed.
I was ecstatic. This was my best purchase for the house yet. It was going to just MAKE this room. I even bragged about it on Facebook:
So naive. So dumb.
Literally, I get a notification the next day saying this puppy has already shipped. This week is just getting better and better. I wait patiently until finally, the day arrives. The package has been delivered to my door. I toil away at work and try not to think about this majestic purchase waiting on me. Just waiting on me to make my dining room amazing. I leave work as soon as the clock strikes 4:30pm. I make a quick pit-stop to pick up some celebratory Pinot Grigio. I will be toasting my genius later. Finally, I near the house. My eyes scour the porch for the large package.
I don’t see anything.
Okay, maybe they put it in the corner where I can’t see it from the driveway.
I walk to the front door. I look around.
Nothing. The only thing at the door is the tiniest box in the world. Surely that’s something Josh ordered. That’s not my rug. They just delivered it to the wrong address, right?
I furtively look around to see if I spy my rug on another persons porch. Nada.
I look back at the box. I’m starting to get worried.
I’m trying to be optimistic. Maybe it’s really thin. Maybe he’s rolled it up really really really tight in some sort of space suit bag that makes things a million times smaller than they really are. It’s okay. This is fine.
I slowly cut open the box. I unroll the protective plastic. And I find my worst nightmare.
My rug is the tiniest rug in the world. My rug is a rug for babies. Or elves. How could this happen? I was so careful, I measured, I….
Italy. My fancy Italian rug would be using their fancy metric system. Centimeters not inches.
It’s around this point that I take the following photo and send to my work friend.
Sometimes, you’ve just gotta laugh. Thank God for Pinot Grigio.