Sometimes it's the way the light comes through the window. Other times the color just seems off. And other times, we just get inspired.
It's furniture. Or curtains. Or a simple change of pace by rearranging our house. We can't move the rooms of course, nor can we shift around the counters in the kitchen--no matter how hard we try. The most recent infection started with a simple phone call.
"We're on our way to your house," they said. "Hope you can make it!"
Where would we put it? The living room? The office? Would it even fit through the door? It was like waking up one morning and finding presents left from Santa Claus. What, it's Christmas?
To home we raced, passing cars on the freeway and honking our horn impatiently as a large truck pulled off the freeway in front of us.
"Is that...it couldn't be."
Yet we followed them home like fools, turning where they turned and stopping where they stopped. Right at our condo. By the end of the day, we had a new armchair, a new couch, a new lamp, a new table, and four new chairs.
Not all came from the truck.
We were, however, down by one futon; its body was donated to science. At least, that's what Deseret Industries implied.
Infected? Perhaps. Inspired? Maybe.
Satisfied? One hundred percent.
That's the Hurst Family way.
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