Jul
18
July 18, 2006
I’ve been really pleased with how the floors in our house turned out, which is a good thing considering all the extra expense and headaches they entailed (unexpected staining resulting in replacement boards, several follow-up contractor visits to hand-sand and apply more finish, and let’s not forget the extra-long stint at Extended Hell Hotel, motto: “Free Semen With Every Blanket!”).
However, the combination of hardwoods and dog hair is not a pretty one. Oh, I know….you told me so. But sometimes you just have to see a fur-tumbleweed the size of a badger in order to believe it.
Since Riley is now semi-ambulatory, he serves as a rather handy Swiffer – if, that is, I don’t mind the front of my 10-month old child looking like a bearskin rug. Which, I’ll admit, sometimes I don’t, but he does tend to need a lot of picking up and handling, and I find it tiresome to lint-roller myself afterwards.
That’s right, I’ll endure having applesauce sneezed on me, poop smeared on me, and formula horked on me, but I draw the line at transferred pet hair, by god.
I’m hoping the dog fur problem will be alleviated somewhat when we get some area rugs, out of sight is out of mind as far as I’m concerned, but I’m getting more and more interested in a Roomba. Those of you who have one, does it really work? Do you program it with your room’s dimensions, or does it just figure it out as it bumbles around? Most importantly, does it terrify your pets in any particularly hilarious way?
I had worried about the potentially disastrous outcome, baby-safety-wise, of ripping out the carpeting, and to that end it’s been about what I expected. I’m positive Riley would be getting bumps and bruises even if we still had carpeting, but the resounding “CLONK” of his little head meeting with the wood floor never fails to dump a kegload of adrenaline into my bloodstream. (I’ve been working on suppressing my inevitable gasp of Dismayed Horror, because while sometimes he barely acknowledges the skull-smash, the sight of his mother making the Edvard Munch Scream Face and croaking “OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY” tends to freak him out, just a smidge.)
Things are only going to get worse, I’m sure, and no floor padding can save us – this morning I watched Riley crawl up to the edge of the hearth, use it to pull himself up, then start to swing one leg over in order to climb inside our filthy fireplace.
(The boy, contemplating his next sure-to-be-fraught-with-peril move. Not pictured: the seized internal organs of his parents.)
Jul
17
5 names the refrigerator “crisper” drawer should have been called:
• Wilter
• Forgetinator
• Sweet-Jesus-what-is-this-vile-green-liquid-O-tron
• Yeah, Right, Like You’re Going to Eat Broccoli Tonight Instead of a Fistful of Wheat Thins
• Ol’ Stinky
:::
I bet toilet training Riley will be exactly like this. With the songs and everything.
:::
I bought myself a most excellent pair of slippers ($4.99 from Walgreen’s! Klassy!):
I think they go quite nicely with the decor, don’t you?
-
My product review site:
[