The fate of rulers in our house is a mystery. We keep buying them, and they keep vanishing into thin air. I swear, I have nothing to do with this – other than one or two supposedly shatterproof rulers that cracked in two upon meeting with my bottom, I don’t, on the whole, do anything unpleasant to rulers.

Be that as it may, Abel declared that it was time to solve the problem once and for all: we would go into a stationery shop and buy a pair of rulers: one for his desk, one for mine. From then on, neither of us would need to borrow a ruler from the other, and they would stay put. And definitely not disappear into the toy chest.

Into the shop we went. Abel disappeared down the aisle to look for something else he needed, whereas I stopped in front of the ruler display. There was plenty of choice. We weren’t buying a ruler with spanking in mind, so we didn’t need anything particularly long, or wide, or thick.

Or so I thought.

“Let’s get that one,” said Abel from behind my back. He was pointing at a particularly sturdy-looking plastic ruler. “They’re three for the price of two, you know.”

“Right. But we only need two.”

“Well. I’m sure we could find a use for an extra ruler. Don’t you agree?”

That was how we ended up with another ruler in our toy box. It practically jumped there all by itself.

…Would it be a good time to mention I have no idea what happened to the ruler that was supposed to live on my desk?