Several months back, Hubs and I decided it was time to rid our living room of carpet. We had it laid approximately six years, two babies and one kitty cat ago...so it was time to do something. I had cleaned and cleaned and cleaned it, but still...stuff lurked deep within. You know...stuff like little-boys-in-training-pee (amongst other unmentionable waste), baby vomit, coffee spills, food spills, and normal animal nastiness. It only cleans so well. Actually, I thoroughly believe my "cleaning" was actually just mashing it's contents deeper within the fibers. So, anyhow, our carpet was decommissioned and a lovely laminate-like floor took it's place. It really is rather pleasing to the eye. While we were happy with the change, we realized we missed having something plushy to sit and play on the floor with the kids. So, after some searching, I chose to use my Christmas money on a lovely, plush carpet. It was perfect. Until the cat decided it was perfectly suitable for his pottying habits. I obsessively scrubbed and scrubbed. My carpet cleaner never got such a workout. I dried and dried. And then I set it back and place and laid down to play with my boys. To my dismay, the smell was still there. I rolled 'er up and put 'er out in the barn with fingers crossed that by some small act of God, winter would wipe away the obnoxious odors that plagued it so. And our living room sat bare.
Last night Hubs and I agreed it was time to do something. Our bruised knees and cold feet told us so, actually. And so, I visited our local Dollar Store to assess the situation. In my mind I had already decided that there was no way I was going to spend much money, should our cat decide to be so rebellious again. Accepting the cost of $22, I snatched one up and carried it around the store, taking out anyone in my path with the length of the rolled up fabric. Roaming from one aisle to the next, I debated my choice. It was black, and although I knew having a black carpet would come with a price, I was willing to assume all responsibilities...because it just matched the decor so well. When I brought it home, I had many a raised eyebrow from the family on my choice, which I fully expected. But, not willing to admit defeat, I unrolled it and carefully laid it down. The boys, in full approval, threw themselves onto it immediately. And when they were done, a small community of lint particles were left behind. No big deal, I thought. It vacuums. By nightfall, it had vacuumed twice, in fact. But, hey...I knew it would be a little higher maintenance...no biggie.
This morning before school the boys crunched cereal throughout the living room, so yet another vacuuming was required. And when I sat on the couch to explain Lexi's math lesson of the day, my eyes were drawn to the white speckles once again formed on the black carpet. Who cares how many tacos Juan bought and for what price...how the heck did my carpet get so nasty again?! My eyes, fixated on the dirt, started to get all twitchy. I felt my blood go to that pre-boil stage. It was only 10:00 and already I've needed to vacuum this thing twice. Suddenly, I hated that carpet. It simply had be of the devil. Not only does it show dirt easily....it attracts it. Like a magnet. It BEGS to be messy. I just can't even handle it. Like seriously. Who in their right mind has: FIVE kids, a WHITE dog, TWO light-haired cats...buys a BLACK carpet? What on earth was I even thinking when I swiped my credit card for in return for this headache? I'll tell you what happened. I had a moment of weakness. A moment in which I pictured a house that was all cutesy-matchy, where children didn't ruthlessly throw graham crackers and perler beads throughout. A house in which everything was self-cleaning and sinks sparkle and tubs glow....
....and then I came back home.
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| Exhibit A: not even two hours after being vacuumed. |
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