What is this place, a barn?

I hosted book club at my house a while back and I told my friend Kristin to bring her dog Laila over for some added entertainment (as if having Cortney there wasn’t enough). I figured Stevie could use the companionship and, let’s be honest, having a little weiner (dog) running around automatically qualifies as good times.

Well, run they did. Laila is still really young and Stevie has developed into a cranky old lady, so the evening consisted mostly of Laila chasing Stevie around.

I think Laila may have even blessed us with some pee in a few places as well. She probably just pee’d over the spots where Stevie had already left her mark.

The following weekend I was rolling around on the floor with my kids and I caught a whiff of something on the floor. I tossed my kids aside and proceeded to sniff the carpet on hands and knees, searching out anything remotely suspicious. I found one spot too many to feel confident in my Resolve carpet cleaning skills and was sure I’d missed more. Then I remembered we had a black light from our “Annual White Trash Bash” that was held in 2005 or 2006 and was never held again, stripping the party of the title “Annual.” I marched down to the basement and actually found the light in our Halloween decoration box! We knew we’d need it again, obviously.

I plugged in the black light in the room in question and it was like the night sky had lit up with stars. Big stars. Oh, and shooting comets.

As Maddox would say, GA-ROSS.

I spent a good hour analyzing the carpet around our house with the black light and Resolve in-hand, shooting at spots like they were little criminals. Pa-POW!

The next day, Brody and I were relaxing on the couch, admiring our kids’ dance skills and the fresh scent of clean carpet. But a good thing can’t last forever; one minute, the kids are dancing joyously, the next minute Lena is falling on her arse and then hopping over to me, slouched down but with her foot in the air. Clearly not a move an old person such as myself could do (as I attempted to demonstrate this for the girls at work).

Upon further evaluation, Lena had not suffered from a dance injury, rather, she had two-stepped her foot into a dog turd, then slipped and fell on her ass on the pile of poo.

I think I’m going to need a bigger bottle of Resolve. And maybe an anti-bacterial gassing.