Years ago, I had a plush white rug that was so soft I’d run my hands through the high pile every now and then… just because. It sat underneath the living room couch and was just the perfect cozy piece to tie the room together.
Sadly, since my husband and I tend to eat dinner on the couch in front of the TV, the rug was the unlucky catch-all tray for runaway pasta sauce, overturned goblets of wine, and crumbs (à la Salt Bae). It didn’t help that I would also accidentally step on one particular corner on my way to the kitchen every. single. time.
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