Feng Shui Fail
Steven walked into the living room where I was skimming through a small, turquoise-colored book I’d just purchased. “Feng shui?” he asked, reading the cover of the book.
I looked up and smiled. “Isn’t it great! I just wanted to check and see how our house rates in this.”
Steven looked around. “I think our house looks great just the way it is.”
“I do, too.” I pointed to the title of the book to prove my point. “But there’s always room for improvement, right?”
Steven shrugged his shoulders as he went into the kitchen.
“Oh no!” I cried. “I’ve found our first problem!”
Steven stuck his head around the corner. “What?”
“It’s our entrance hall.” I looked over at him. “It says if you can see your back door from your front door any good luck that comes into the house goes right back out the other door!”
Steven didn’t look impressed. “We’re not moving doors.”
“I know.” I looked back down at my book. “I’m just saying it’s a little unsettling.”
Steven went back into the kitchen.
“Oh great, here’s another problem!” I called out.
“What’s this one?”
“It says if you can see your dining room from your living room you’ll always be thinking about food and not each other!”
“It’s called an open floor plan.”
“I know what it’s called.” I could hear him opening the silverware drawer. “What are you making?”
“A sandwich. Do you want one?”
“Well, I wasn’t hungry until I looked at the dining room table.” I shook my head in disgust. “But now all I can think about are the doughnuts I bought yesterday.”
Steven came out holding the empty box. “The boys already beat you to them.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess it’s for the best.” I kept flipping through the pages. “Oh great, even the color we’ve painted the walls is all wrong!”
“Oh come on!” Steven called. “What’s wrong with the color?”
“In feng shui it’s all about the opposites.” I began reading from the book. “It says that because gray is neither black or white but a murky combination of the two it means we have something to hide.” I dropped the book on the couch and went into the kitchen, leaned against the counter and watched Steven finish making his sandwich. “So according to feng shui we’re doomed to be a bunch of unlucky, fat, secret keepers!” I sighed.
Steven just laughed as he put his sandwich on a plate and walked over to the table.
“Oh, that reminds me!” I said, perking up a bit. “I hid some of my Valentine candy in the back of the cabinet so the boys wouldn’t find it!” I went over to the cabinet, pulled out one of the drawers, moved some cans of soup and found my small, heart-shaped box tucked behind them. Opening the lid, I rolled my eyes. “They found it.” I held up the empty box for Steven to see.
“So our house isn’t a feng shui fail after all.” Steven took another bite of his sandwich.
Now I was confused. “How do you figure that?” I tossed the empty box into the garbage and sat down next to him at the table.
“Well, it seems you can’t keep a secret from the boys because they found your candy. And you won’t be complaining that you put on any weight from eating it, right?” He looked over at me and smiled. “I think that’s pretty lucky, don’t you?”
Kathy Miele lives in Eatontown, N.J.