I like pretty things. I admire houses that are decorated beautifully, but anyone that sees my house wouldn't have a clue that I like seeing every room color co-ordinated and decorated.
My walls are basically bare, except for a calendar in the kitchen, and two clocks that never seem to have the right time. The bathroom, I'll not even go into too many details there, suffice it to say I have tried to become blind to all the flaws it contains.
Most of the towels we have clash badly with the green marbled wall, but after fifteen years of use most of them are at the point that they need to be replaced. This would be the great time to get some nicer colors I told myself, but then I happened upon some good quality towels that couldn't be beat in price. I snagged them even though I didn't care for the colors, they would work just fine for the job they're supposed to do and the day when everything matches will simply have to wait.
LV came home from a day of working with a welder and sees the new towels for the first time. "What color is that towel," he asked me.
"An ugly tannish brownish something or the other, I'm not even sure that color has a name," was my reply.
He was immensely relieved. "I really thought something was wrong with my eyes and I might be going colorblind or something."
The towel continues to stay in the bathroom. It's beginning to grow on me just a little. It actually doesn't look too bad with the green wall, but it will always be referred to as the colorblind towel.