5/14/09 What the Doobie Brothers Have in Common With My Carpet

So I've rented a Rug Doctor and I'm shampooing the carpets today. It's our turn to host Tony's poker buddies Saturday night, and the carpets were due for a good washing anyway. (Not that Tony's poker buddies, being of the male persuasion and all, would notice if we had dirty carpet...shoot, they'd be lucky to notice that we had carpet period. But I, being the good southern hostess that I am, would rather walk on hot coals than invite people over to the house with less than perfect carpet. So here we are). Now normally Tony does the actual shampooing since I'm lazy he's so wonderful, but since I now seem to have all the free time in the world on my hands, I decided that I would take it on this go around.

We shampoo the carpets about every six months or so anyway, so you wouldn't think that it would be that big of a deal. Plus, Roomba vacuums daily (well, upstairs and downstairs on alternating days), so the carpet shouldn't be that dirty, right?

Wrong.

It is a universal law that every person since the dawn of time (or at least at the invention of carpet shampooers), no matter how much of a neat-freak they are, and no matter how clean they think their floors are, will be completely and totally disgusted by the filthy black water that comes out of that carpet machine. There is just no way to avoid it.

Personally, I think that this is a trick of the machine itself. Somewhere, between the spraying and the sucking and shampooing, it has a tiny cartridge that shoots black ink into the dirty water reservoir so that when you pull it out to empty it, you go, "Blech! Look at this water! I better wash my carpets more often!" and then you either go out and buy the machine yourself or you keep renting it on a weekly basis, and THAT, my friends, is where they get you.

(Actually, this is just what I'm telling myself because I don't want to believe that our carpets are really this dirty. I mean, I lay on these carpets! I may have to go take another shower right now). Lest you think that we're some sort of disgusting couple who has a really filthy house though, let me assure you that Martha approves of my cleaning routine.

And who dares to disagree with Martha, right?

So here I am, shampooing away and singing the Doobie Brothers ("Oh black water, keep on rollin"... it seemed appropriate) as I carry each back-breaking bucket of dirty water to the tub to wash down the drain. Then, of course, I'll clean the tub.

These poker buddies better fall to their knees and weep in awe when they see my sparkly clean carpet.

Assuming, of course, that their knees are clean.