When I first moved into my house, I didn’t have much in terms of decoration. I’d moved from 2-bed terrace with small rooms (apart from a massive kitchen which didn’t get utilised enough) to a 3-story house with a big lounge space. I didn’t have sofas, I didn’t have a television, and I didn’t have a rug at this point.
Fast forward a couple of weeks from moving-in day and I had two sofas, two televisions and a rug that collective members of my family had defecated on so many times that it’s a wonder it kept its red colour. (I’d like to point out that they weren’t adults at the time – I hope.)
While it’s great that so many people put towards me being able to sit down in comfort and not stare at a brick wall once the kids had gone to bed, there was just something about the rug which I wasn’t too comfortable with. After reading the last paragraph, you’re probably well on the way to realising why.
I went to IKEA a couple of months later, armed with Christmas money and various bits and bobs that I had saved up in order to chuck out the old and bring in the brilliant. I went for a nice patterned piece which I thought went well with the room. You know what I didn’t take into account it going well with?
And so, let me present to you … five ways to ruin a rug.
It’s only when you become a parent that you realise just how much time Satan probably put into devising specific fruits to chuck up into that garden with Adam and Eve. Bananas leave a stain as dark as your nightmares upon clothing that promised better, and blueberries turn your kid’s crap into something you’d probably get an amazing crop out of if you were that way inclined. And then there are mangoes. Delicious mangoes. My children feast on these as if they’re the last food on earth. Apart from when they don’t feast and are saving them for later, inevitably smashing them into my poor new rug in the process.
2. Shake ‘n’ Vac
I thought that this would be brilliant stuff to help rid my rug, the room, my life, of any unwanted odours. Turns out that it does get rid of odours, it just won’t come out of any carpet that’s a bit wavy. Should’ve read the label really.
Present my children with this at your peril. I have learned my lesson with play-doh. We can be having nice (contained!) fun with it on a table, and no matter how careful I am when packing away, it still makes its way to the rug. How? We’ll never know. Science. Magic. Voodoo.
Again, something that as a rule stays firmly away from the carpeted area, yet still manages to creep in up the sleeve of a child. I only tend to notice once they’ve coloured a flower in.
I’m a law unto myself some days. The amount of stuff I’ve spilt on that rug is diabolical. Tea, wine, curry, my solitary tears. Everything. Let’s see how long this one lasts.