Until today, there was a void in my life. I had my new chair. It rocks and is big enough to curl up in and I was happy, at first. But then I realised that a chair isn’t worth curling up in without a blanket. Thus I began my search for a blanket. I started at Emart but they had almost nothing. In fact, nothing would have been better than what they did have: small, ugly blankets with pumpkins on them. Sale or no sale, I did not want that blanket mingling with my chair. I went to Lotte Mart, where they had nothing. I went into some smaller stores, still nothing. Along the way I confused many kind Koreans who pointed to all sorts of bedding but could not direct me to a chair-curling-up blanket. Days passed and I still had no blanket. I spent evenings sitting in my chair, wondering what my future blanket was doing right at that moment. Probably, I thought, it was sitting on a shelf and wondering when I would find so it could live up to its cuddle potential
And then, when I wasn’t even looking for a blanket, I found you. I was in Emart to buy bread. You were in Emart because someone had returned you and thousands of other heartless, judgemental shoppers had rejected you. Well, dear blanket, I decided to take a chance on you, you and your pumpkin pattern.
I’m not sure what it was that made me give you a second chance. Some might call it a great sale, but think of it as destiny.
Blanket, you taught me tolerance. I will no longer dismiss things based solely on their pattern. You have proven to be so much more than a Halloween-themed textile. In fact, you have restored my faith in life’s little surprises because you, dear blanket, are not only a blanket. Oh, no. Hidden inside your Korean packaging was a fantastic surprise: a hooded cape. I didn’t know how much my life was missing a hooded cape until I found you. So thank you cape, for reminding me that you can’t fall in love if you don’t take a chance.