Bronwyn_MayB: Let drywall guys into the house. Told them not to worry about their shoes. Might be sleeping in the garage tonight after I clean the carpets.
Bronwyn_MayB: If my life were a sitcom, I would be the fat awkward guy who always screws up. I would give anything to be the hot disapproving wife.
Let me show you what happened.
I let the drywall guys into the yard to show them the window they will be able to load the drywall through. Then, I opened the garage so they could get into the basement. They had one drop cloth that wouldn't cover the entire way from the door to the steps. I figured it would be one trip down the steps -- no big deal. I told them to carry on and I would worry about it later. They went downstairs.
That's when I remembered that it had snowed the other night and melted during the day. That's also when I heard The Guy's head explode. I told him not to worry I would clean it up and he wouldn't notice a thing afterwards. He went to bed unconvinced.
I moved the one drop cloth to cover as much as I could of the steps. Then, I ignored the workers as they wandered up and down the stairs. When they left, I went to look at the steps. This is what I saw.
Well... shit.
The Guy came out to take a look. He then shook his head, turned around, and went back into the bedroom. I'm a little concerned he won't come out, but since I know he has to work in the morning I imagine he will come out sometime.
I got to work. Thank God, my mother taught me how to clean up a mess. She was taught by a good family friend who could get the spots out of a leopard. Grandma W. taught my mom how to get out anything from anything. She and her husband had owned a car lot back in the day. Mom used to tell me a story about how they had purchased a car from a police auction -- a car involved in a homicide. Grandma W grabbed a bottle of fantastic and went to work. After that, there was no sign of the blood and they could sell the car. I counted on that level of skill as I went to work.
Forty-five minutes later, my arm is sore, my jeans are filthy and the carpet is clean. Well, clean-er. I don't imagine it will withstand the scrutiny of The Guy, but it might keep me from having to sleep in the spare room for a month.
Dear God, woman, that is horrendous!
ReplyDeleteYou need to post an after picture.
And maybe rent a carpet cleaner.
ReplyDeleteNo workman worth his pay should have made a mess like that REGARDLESS of your permission! I'd be having words with my contractor and seeking the cost of replacement carpet. However, I am currently in a rather litigious (did I spell that right??) mood.
ReplyDeleteHoly. Crap.
ReplyDeleteI think that was a douchebaggy move on the part of the repair guys to be okay with tracking in mud like that.
I'm with Sherendipity- you need to post an after pic.
Listen: PROSOLVE. It's what the crazy old dude who cleaned the bookstore I worked at used on carpets. It is MAGIC. Try it. Spray bottle, to be had in grocery stores. Good luck.
ReplyDeleteThe only thing I got out of this story was the hope that I would find a guy who values things that are clean as much as your guy does. Sorry. The after pic does look good though.
ReplyDelete