In February of 2007 my husband and I bought our wonderful home. The *great room*, aka my daycare, had the most lovely blue carpet. It was bright, blue, and very boingy when you stepped on it. Perfect! John had reservations, he asked me if I was sure I wanted the blue (I think we had maybe discussed asking for a carpet allowance). Oh yes, I loved this carpet.
It has been almost 2 years. I don’t love the carpet. Blue is a horrid color for a carpet! I swear even snow white carpet would have been better, at least hair and crackers would blend in. Nothing is blue, so every.single.thing shows. Why in god’s green earth would someone put blue carpeting down in this space? It is just awful! The central vac was obviously a necessity because in order to keep every single little speck from showing it has to be vacuumed multiple times per day. The Stanley Steamer fliers we kept getting in the beginning should have been a clue. I am certain that the previous owners used Mr. Steamer at least once a month in order to keep this damn carpet nice. The previous owners must have also been one of those “No Shoe” households. Beyond that, they were also probably empty nesters with no grandchildren, pets, or hair. Yes, they must have been bald because even hair shows up on this wretched rug.
The carpet was vacuumed yesterday by John, my husband, who moves things to properly vacuum, not to be confused with John my son, who moves things to corners and shoves small items under the couch with the vacuum head. It is 9:30am and already I can see cat hair, my hair, cracker crumbs, a couple of stray oats that must have been stuck to Liam, a half-eaten rice puff from Maggie, dirt, and the ground in poptarts that simply won’t come up at all. It is this that leads me to my letter to Santa Clause.
I have been good this year.
Please bring me brown flecked shag carpet that won’t show dirt.
PS. I will bake you cookies and leave a shot glass and a bottle of AfterShock.