When our daughter outgrew her crib,
we decided that it was time to redecorate the nursery.
Given her blindness, there wasn't much point
in covering the walls with cartoons,
but we thought she might like a big fluffy rug
and some toddler furniture,
and maybe one of those musical night-lights.
At the carpet store, however,
she soon abandoned the deep-shag section
in favor of climbing over the huge rolls of artificial grass
and tugging at the corners of the Persian rugs
stacked on the floor.
Then she found the stack of wildlife rugs.
"Zee! Zee!" she squealed, tugging my hand
and pointing at the garish black-and-white stripes.
She couldn't say zebra yet
but clearly remembered the herd of Grant's zebras
from her birthday trip to the zoo.
"Well, the eye doctor did say
that she might be able to distinguish bold contrasts,"
my wife pointed out.
"It certainly is that," I said,
eyeing the rug a bit dubiously.
It was difficult to make the mental switch.
We had orig