Having a bad hair - er -- house day

It started with the dog and the sofa. And my 3-year-old. My 6-year-old informant, Christopher, came to me to say that he went into the living room and found the sofa "in pieces". I ran. There was Joey, watching TV, and there was one of the cushions, nearly in pieces, just as Christopher had noted. I knew who caused it, but just couldn't understand why Joey let him get so far with the damage. I asked him. Or maybe I yelled/asked him, but you can understand my frustration. He claimed he told Koda to stop, but he wouldn't. Now ordinarily, I would accept his plea and move on, maybe redirect my anger at the dog or a pillow or to God temporarily. But a couple of weeks ago, this same scenario played out, only Joey immediately came to me to tattle on Koda and I managed to intercede before extensive damage was done. Apparently the cartoon on TV was too good for Joey to tear himself away long enough to tell me what was going on. Too good for him to even yell to me to get my attention.

I was even more angry at myself because after this first incident, I impulsively went online and ordered some skatmats to keep Koda out of the living room and my brand new living room set. Okay, it's not brand new, but new to me as a friend of mine gave it to me not three weeks ago to have since they were getting a new one. Too good to pass up and it was in excellent condition compared to the sofa we presently had. I didn't have the skatmats in use because unbeknownst to me when I ordered them, they will not only give a little electric charge to the dog, but to the kids or anybody else who walks on them barefoot or even in stocking feet, as well. I even considered returning them, convinced Joey had probably been teasing the dog to get him to attack the sofa the first time.

I laid out the skatmats, collected the damaged cushion and after placing a phone call to a nice local upholsterer in town, dropped Christopher at school and paid a visit to him. The fabric was too damaged to be able to repair without the use of a patch. I could go with that. I can just put the patch side on the bottom and live with it. It's still better than the sofa we had before, and $35 was worth it. I can have the cushion back tomorrow, almost as good as new. I got over it.

While Jeffrey napped, I proceeded with my ongoing project of repainting the downstairs recreation room. I had completed one wall yesterday and was working on another today, starting with the trim. I kept the can of paint in a room off-limits to the kids, and only carried my paint brush and little Cool Whip container with the paint needed to do the trim. Joey played with the train set downstairs, very much into his imaginary play. I got the trim done and was ready to start the walls, but not before checking on Jeffrey.

Jeffrey was up and cranky and in need of some food, so I dealt with him and his hunger. I returned downstairs to a horrific sight. The Cool Whip container was upside down, paint pooled underneath and spattered from its original spot where more paint had been spilled where Joey had apparently taken it upon himself to repaint a portion of the wall. Joey was nowhere in sight.
Again, I ran.

Eventually, I found Joey hiding, obviously very much aware of what he had done and doing what he could to avoid the inevitable. I knew I couldn't completely blame him, since I stupidly left the paint down there, tempting a curious 3-year-old to check it out. I just ranted and yelled, more at myself than him, as to what he thought he was doing and how was I ever going to get the paint out of the carpet? Here I am trying to improve the decor down there, and apparently at the expense of one thing for another!

Supposedly, steam cleaning a carpet can get the paint out. So now I will be renting the Rug Doctor tomorrow with the hope that I can make it happen and get the rug looking clean again.

And there you have it. A bad house day. I'd take 100 bad hair days over that.