Most everyone else in the world knows that you shouldn't ring the doorbell at a house that may contain sleeping babies unless you want to face the wrath of a frazzled mother, but delivery guys don't really seem to care about this. Probably because they usually ring the bell, drop the package on the doorstep and are in the truck and halfway down the street before I get the chance to give them an icy glare for waking up my youngest child.
But, I digress.
Midday Friday the doorbell rang. My kids were not sleeping so I happily bounded down the stairs to see who could be at the door. There stood Fed Ex Dude with my new Bissell 9400 Proheat 2x Select Upright Deep Carpet Cleaner that was not supposed to come for another two weeks. "Wow, it's just like CHRISTMAS!" I proclaimed while doing a happy dance. Fed Ex Dude eyed me nervously and moved the box inside the door for me since it was so heavy. How chivalrous. Off to his truck he escaped.
I was so excited! I even called Greg at work to announce our newest arrival. I was all pumped to do some major Cleaning 'O' Carpet until I realized that my mom was coming for the weekend in about two hours and probably wouldn't want to spend it watching me suck up filth with my new toy. The box sat unopened all weekend, taunting me. We kept busy though and I was able to properly ignore it all weekend long. That is, until this evening when I could no longer contain myself. Yeah, I know. I broke the "Keep the Sabbath Day Holy" commandment.
Can I just tell you how absolutely, positively wonderful it was to clean my disgusting carpets? The carpet in my family room needed a good scrubdown LAST January, when I had such bad morning sickness that I would just toss random pieces of food (crackers, raisins, etc) on the floor for A to eat. I even remember a time that I spilled a glass of juice and just watched it seep into the carpet because I knew if I moved at all I would start heaving again. I was happy to live in squalor if it meant not throwing up. Fortunately my attitude has changed since morning sickness subsided and I can now be relied on to make semi-intelligent decisions. If I spilled a glass of juice these days I would promptly clean it up, I assure you of that.
My carpet now looks clean and it smells divine. I would say it looks beautiful but it does not since I hate the color. It has a seventies "Golden Wheat" quality to it that I just can't seem to fall in love with. Plus it is about as comfortable as cozying up on the floor of a Texaco station. Not that I would know.
I don't know what it is about deep cleaning things that I love so much. Seeing all the dirt and grime that comes out of the carpet fills me with disgust and joy all at the same time. I felt the same way when we got our Dyson. We have had it for a year and a half and I have yet to tire of checking the canister after each room to see how much debris it has collected. It's a sickness, really.
I helped my inlaws clean their deck with a power sprayer last year and it was pure exhilaration. It took me ten times longer to do my portion of it because I had to get every little tiny piece of dirt and color out of the wood. Greg promptly took over so that we wouldn't be there for the
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Here I am with Bissell herself. I am hiding behind her because this was the best way to hide that I am wearing my satin candy cane pajama pants. Holy Embarrassing. Plus the camera added a bunch of weight so the view from the side made me look fatter than I actually am. Yeah, I'm sure that's what it was.
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Ah, bliss.