"What's that? Oh, uh oh...um...I stepped in dog poop." I hear my husband say from the kitchen. "And now it's on the floor. I have to go to work, sorry!" he rushes through that sentence as he backs out of the door.
"Oh, great. Thanks for giving me a reason to wash the floor today" I say sarcastically.
What did I want to say? How about "Get your butt back in here and CLEAN UP THIS POOP!"
My friend suggested that I roll up the area rug that got the brunt of the poop, put it outside with a note on it that says "wash me!" (I might add "and don't come in until you do!")
But I didn't. I cleaned up the offensive chunks, got a stiff bristled brush and some dish detergent and scrubbed the crap out of that rug. (Pun completely intended) I used a stiff bristled brush and some diluted Dawn Dish Detergent and it seemed to clean it pretty well. Then I washed the floor and got on with the rest of my day.
However, I did have that image of Cinderella flitting through my head. You know the part I'm talking about. After she has been told she can go to the ball if she just can get her chores done first. The infamous "If..." from the stepmother.
So, the good news is that my kitchen and bathroom floors are clean and shiny and the rug in front of the door has been scrubbed and steam cleaned. We also have a new rule that anyone who wears work boots has to check the bottom of their boots before they come into the house. I am thinking of changing the "he who smelled it, dealt it" to "he who tracks it, scrubs it," but that's not very catchy.
There's not a whole lot more to the story, and I don't have much more to add, but I thought that other Cinderellas may appreciate the situation.
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