I’m willing to admit that I cry from time to time. There’s no use trying to hide it when you take your five-year-old niece to the cinema to see a Pixar movie, and you end up crying your eyes out while she’s squinting at the screen and wondering when the dog is going to come back on. Still, I usually manage to keep it in. You can’t just cry at every little thing.
The state of the floors right now, however…that’s something to cry about. I may never stop, even after I’ve rented a ride on floor scrubber and done my best to get it all up. It was supposed to be a family reunion, of sorts. It was going to be so wonderful, seeing all those members of the family I’m usually so fond of. I’m not sure how I feel about them now that they’ve gone trampling over the carpets and ruined the whole place. To be fair, my wife was standing at the door and telling everyone coming in to not bother taking off their shoes. I can still see the look on her faces, switching fro joyous greeter to triumphant vixen. She hated the colour of the carpets, and now, it looks like she’ll get her way. And what’s wrong with puce? Puce is a grand and noble colour. The only way it isn’t grand and noble is if there’s mud smeared all over it. Which has now happened.
And then after the gathering, we stood and look at the mess, and she had the audacity to bring out the old power sweeper we’ve had for years and suggest that I give the carpets a go-over. That’ll get some of it off, she says. As if I don’t know that it’s all hopeless. I need some professional power sweeper place around Brisbane to see if they can give it a go. I’m not giving up just yet. Though I will be shedding a few more tears, because that was the only puce carpet I was ever able to find. jjkjk hjhj