blaŋ·kət

About a month ago: 

"Mother, after all the blankets we use at the cabin are laundered, may I keep the afghan blanket which you bought in Mexico many years ago?"

A little later:

"Bethany, I left that blanket on your bed. I'm going to the cabin now, and I am bringing along the other freshly laundered blankets with me. Farewell."

A little later, later:

"Oh dear, Mother left the wrong blanket on my bed. She left this odd, old quilty thing that will clash with everything in my bedroom rather than the Mexican blanket which I thought would be pleasant to have spread upon my bed. Now what."

But then a remarkable thing occurred. Although Bethany originally found the blanket to be rather unusual, against her expected preference, and more squatty than a normal bed covering...

...She soon came to find the intricately knotted yarn to be rather charming, comforting, uniquely cheerful, and quite fitting to her taste. 

To this very day, it canopies the young girl as she counts sheep every night.