Thursday, April 7, 2011

I confess . . .


Poor Puppy's Pop, he's always known that he married a somewhat compulsive cleaning bug who is always certain that she never makes any messes but I confess that I've made an egregious error. Years ago when I redid the floors in the two downstairs bedrooms I bought expensive braided rugs from Country Curtains in Warwick, RI. Six years ago when we had new floors and carpeting installed in all five rooms I moved the braided rugs to protect the kitchen floors, the largest in front of the sink. Soon Puppy's Pop accidentally dropped coffee grounds on it and what a spot it made. So I brought the rug to an expensive rug cleaner in Brooklyn and it looked pretty good for a while. Then the chemicals he used wore off and the spot was worst than ever so I tried to clean it myself. Finally got sick of the now huge spot, the turning around and over of the rug and put it downstairs in front of the new front loading washer. Then I chose the middle sized rug and put it in front of the sink. Perfect, beauteous, clean, spotless, light, comfortable rug until, yep, Puppy's Pop spilled a little something and I cleaned it up. Big, outlandish spot. Flipped the rug over, this time the spot hadn't leached through. Good for two days when I spilled a dab of coffee cream on the rug. I immediately took the wash cloth and using only water scrubbed the small spot vigorously. After it dried the dawn came. I am the culprit who has caused all of the spots over the years to grow into unsightly, catastrophic growths. You see; some of the colors on these wool rugs are reds and blues; they are not in the least bit color fast and my vigorous cleaning has made almost undetectable spots monstrously detectable even to the almost blind. How humiliating, how devastating, how insensitive, how maddening, that it took me so long to realize that I make as many messes as anyone else and huge ones at that. No longer perfect I must deal with my sins. Guess I'll try keeping my mouth shut before spouting off and blaming the innocent! See, confession is good for the soul. Well, not really. It's hard to admit you can be an imbécile! But I vow to grow in wisdom from this shattering experience.


Quote: The greatest of faults is to be conscious of none. ___Carlyle

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