SPRINGDALE — Safe to say I am a practical gal. Some might say frugal, others might say cheap. Tomayto, tomahto. The point is my first thought is always functionality when I stand (or hover with my mouse online) at checkout time. It’s not that I don’t appreciate and desire aesthetics. I do, and thankfully, more times than not, functionality will deliver an agreeable, or dare I say, charming appeal as well.
Take my most recent, and I can’t emphasize this enough, necessary purchase. Time and children can make a person’s home carpeting beg for mercy. With each step across my son’s bedroom, I could hear the carpet whimper to be put out of its misery. There isn’t enough stain-removing Resolve in the world to tackle the years of spilt chocolate milk, late night sickness, ground in dirt, bloody nose geysers, dog-seizures (A path can literally be worn where he turns endlessly in circles. Don’t judge. We have seen a vet.), and other unfortunate disasters. I finally gave in and researched carpet on Google.
As prepared as can be, I marched right into a carpet store with determination and focused agenda. Then the door behind me closed and I caught a whiff of that “new carpet” smell and almost lost my mind. I became a dazed and staggering fool, bouncing into displays of color, pattern, and what felt like fluffy animals of carpeting. And I thought to myself, “Self, this must be what congressmen feel when unsuccessfully trying to budget, but you will succeed.” I slapped myself a few times and regained my stealth composure.
I did my usual quick scan of a store, found the most bland and unadorned labels, then dug in. To his credit, the kind gentleman behind the counter didn’t rush over and try to lead me back to the land of beauty. Oh, no, he was a rare jewel of a salesman (or a very scared human being) and decided to follow my lead. He didn’t even blink when I asked him if he carried a plush, Teflon carpet. He just nodded somberly and asked how many kids were there. “Oh, dear, sweet Tom, do you mean my own or in the neighborhood?” And let’s not forget the dog, never ever forget the dog.
He quickly and heroically threw down the choicest gray-labeled, stain resistant carpet you have ever seen. I decisively went for the most confusing solid pattern, one which could detour anyone’s eye from finding defiled threading. Then sweet Tom asked me about color. Easy peasy, I have known for seven years, three months and four days exactly what color I would choose when this moment arrived.
I looked him straight in the eye and I said, “Tom, do you carry the shade of golden retriever?” And again, to his credit, he didn’t blink or look dismayed. Instead he went straight to the sample cabinet. Tom brought me three samples and told me to match it up and come back later. I drove straight home, beckoned my shedding lump of love and tossed all choices next to him on the ground and the decision became a reality.
Now, none of this seemed anything but reasonable and practical until I spoke with my mom. When my own mother burst out laughing at the thought of me choosing carpet based on dog hair color and not wall or furniture colors, well I had a brief second of self-doubt. One full second. Then I remembered that my shedding loved one probably had at least seven more years due to the advancement of pet pharmaceuticals and I felt reassured.
So here’s the moral of the story. Congrats to the City Council on your recent vote to approve the new potties downtown. Bathrooms that cost $253,000 might seem, for a brief second, impractical and ridiculous. However, consider the decades of use and disasters that will inevitably take place within those walls and amortize that with the cost and value per stall and there isn’t a choice. The Shiloh Square bathroom facility was a sound investment — even frugal. That kind of potty talk can charm the heck out of a gal like me, though it may ruin your breakfast. Sorry.
HEATHER ORRICK NICHOLS IS A SPRINGDALE NATIVE, A WIFE AND THE MOTHER OF THREE CHILDREN.