Not How I Planned to Greet the Morning

Snooze the alarm twice. Toss the covers back and swing feet to the floor. Take care of first things first, then brush teeth. Slide feet into cozy fuzzy slippers, pull on the warm robe, and walk out of the bedroom. Knock on the doors of children who should be waking up as well. Shuffle downstairs.

Turn on the coffee pot as I gratefully see that Rebekah pre-set it last night. Head for the family room to look for the TV remote so I can watch Fox and Friends as I wait for the coffee.

Step in dog barf.

Not a good sign.

Evidently our sweet, but stupidly greedy, Vali, has eaten something that disagreed with her tummy. Really disagreed with her tummy. Really.

Everywhere I looked in the family room, our green carpet was, um, "marred" by the evidences of Vali's intestinal distress. Now, I've been wanting to replace this carpet for a long time- green just doesn't work for me. But now is not the best time.

Fortunately we own a carpet shampooer.

Years ago, while we lived in Florida, I was talking to a friend on the phone and asked her what was the loud, continuous noise in the background. She told me that her daughter was shampooing their carpets with the machine that they owned- several children, it only made sense to own one. I agreed with the wisdom of having such a magical device and our conversation ended soon thereafter. Moments later- moments- four-year old Isaac stepped almost out of my bathroom clutching his tummy. With his heels on the tile floor of the bathroom and his toes on my bedroom carpet he said, "my tummy hurts". He then promptly threw up all over the carpet. I called my friend back, borrowed her shampooer, and went out the next week to purchase my own.

Best investment ever.

So now our family room is empty of all furniture and drying after a thorough shampooing. A very thorough shampooing. Very.

Isaac mentioned finding the wrapper to a habanero praline in the family room Sunday afternoon, (Kate had brought some home from San Antonio), in a manner that suggested that Vali had eaten it while we were in church. She does this on occasion. Being her own worst enemy, she evidently snatched something that seemed yummy at first, swallowed it too quickly to realize that it was dynamite, and let the contents simmer for a few days in her belly. Yup, that would explain a lot.

I never did find the remote...