Sunday night just as I was laying my tired bones down to bed the ear doctor noticed a strange small red stain about the size of a pea on our carpet.
We then looked around the house and noticed that these stains were EVERYWHERE. All through the living room, all down the hallway, all over my beautiful green rug. All OVER!
As luck would have it our little Roscoe dog had a cut on his right front paw and he was gingerly spreading little blood stains all over the house. Gross. We bandaged up his paw the best we could and decided that the clean up job would have to wait until the next day.
We've been wanting to rent one of those steam cleaners for our carpet for months now and the ear doctor declared that Monday would be carpet cleaning day.
So, yesterday afternoon he dutifully went over to the supermarket to see about renting a cleaner. Now, you probably don't know this, but my husband is a little bit fanatical about stains. He treats their removal with mythical faith. Spray 'n wash is his stain removing shaman, Shout his spot bustin swami, and Oxi-clean his grime removal guru. He will try any product under the sun if it promises results. And he FOLLOWS THE INSTRUCTIONS ON THE LABEL.
And since the label on the steam cleaner said it would only remove bio-related stains and not specifically blood stains he decided that he'd clean each blood spot....individually...by hand...while crouching on his hands and knees.
He does nothing half way.
So yesterday my husband spent a few painfully hot and sweaty hours scrubbing about a thousand little spots out of our rental carpet with only a rag and a squirt bottle. Because, well, that's the kind of guy he is.
He's the kind of guy who will do the crap jobs because they've got to get done.
That's the kind of person you want around to help you through this life.