After camping this weekend, Bill and the boys set up the tent in the backyard to dry out. In the evening, Bill was putting it away, and I went to help him with the rain fly, which is not rectangular. He started to object to my pattern of folding.
“I usually fold the sides in to make it a rectangle,” he explained.
“It is a rectangle,” I insisted, gesturing to my not-very-rectangly shape. “You just have to think outside the box.”
“I was thinking outside the box,” he said. “But my box is different than your box.”
Somehow, we make this marriage work.