Oh for the love of Carpet Fresh and Tough Stuff, I long for the day no one pees on my carpet! How much can one carpet take anyway. I am thinking of trying tequila next. No, no. Not for the carpet. For me. I figure I will care less if I am drunk than if I am stone cold sober on my hands and knees scrubbing and sobbing over the fact that once again something peed on my carpet. I finally see that beautiful light at the end of the tunnel when it comes to potty training Gabriella. My last baby. The last trip through the hell that is known as potty training. Alas, the only pee accidents come from me when sneezing or laughing too hard. (I have given birth 4 times, you know!) So finally, I reach the point where I am pretty sure that my daughter has decided to stop peeing on my carpet. (Of course, the fact that I offered her a Porsche and a diamond tiara that announces to the world that she in fact THE Royal Princess might have helped break her of that habit.)
Now it is the dog. (Oh, and Internet, if you ever meet Clint in person or talk to him online, please do not ask how his dog, Mr Tampon Ears, is doing. He is SO not amused by that.)
Besides the overall nuisance and disgust factor of anything peeing on my carpet, it is my own personal hell because, unknown to many, I have a super-power. I am Super Olfactory Girl. I have the most sensitive sense of smell of anyone I know or have ever known. I can smell (and be revolted by) something that no one else is even aware of. In fact, a few years ago, the most god-awful smell was seeping from our master bathroom that had me shoving things up my nose to avoid smelling it and causing me to puke into my own mouth. (And no, it wasn’t one of the males in my home causing it.) No one else smelled anything. A few days later, a leak was discovered in the bathroom and the rest of the house began to wreak of the horrendous smell that tortured me for days. I had to move out until it was fixed. No, not really, but I did bitch about it until the carpet was replaced.
Clint is now receiving phone calls at work that are along the lines of:
“YOUR dog just PISSED on my carpet. Do you KNOW how badly that smells? He POOPED in the kitchen. IN THE DAMN KITCHEN! I cannot have a kitchen that smells like ass. I vomited in your shoe to get back at you. AND IT SMELLS TERRIBLE!”
On the plus side, I have scrubbed my carpet and my floors to a point where they have never been cleaner in the history of the world. Of course, my house has the disturbing odor of vanilla scented pine trees most of the time now.
This puppy is totally stressing me out with the peeing and the pooping.
I am going to go gang bang Ben & Jerry
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