Me and my monkey...

So the carpet/upholstery cleaning man was in residence for the whole of yesterday. As it got nearer to 5.00, I wondered whether I should consider making up one of the kids's rooms for him to sleep in.  However, it all came together in a crashing crescendo around 5.30, and I was ushered round my own home to ooh and aah at his endeavors. 

It was hard to see whether he'd made much of a difference with the lounge carpet as it was still wet (note to self, always wear shoes, as they are less absorbent than socks).  The rug was still sunbathing upside down on the front lawn, sweating its shag pile out on a large sheet of polythene, but it was the sofas which drew out the biggest response from him. Apparently, and I wouldn't disagree with him, the two plain sofas were back to showroom condition.  It was the patterned one which caused him to droop a little.  'I did as much as I could with this one, but it's not brilliant'.  

I think that this is carpet/upholsterer cleaner speak for, 'This one'd 'ad it love. Better get yourself down to DFS.   I call that place Divorce For Sure, but the wife always says Don't F***ing Start.  She's got a sense of humour on 'er that one'.

Now this sofa is the one which the husband loves to sit on.  I can't blame the dogs because they hate it as much as I do, preferring the softer plain sofas.  So all fingers are now pointed to the husband.  This is what comes of having a husband who spends post of his working day either under the floorboards or in a small cupboard which houses a boiler.  It would appear that no manner of showering will remove the dirt, so I have decided that I am going to buy him one of those fleece sleeping bags to sit inside before he sprawls on the sofas again.  

I'm going to make one alteration to it though, and add a drawstring around the neck so that he is completely covered.  I'll be sure that it is one with handy pockets for the remote controls, his glasses and a bar of chocolate, so I'll have to cut a couple of holes in the front so that he can get his hands free. Thinking about this, perhaps a third hole might be a good idea, for those advert comfort breaks he's so fond of...

But I am very pleased with what the chap has done.  I still can't walk on the carpets or rug without wellies, and the sofas can't be used for at least another day, but hey, no one said it would be easy.  The trouble is, that I lifted everything on to the bed so that he could get to the carpet, and because it's still not dry, it will all have to stay there.  Another night in the spare room for us then.

Son number one arrived expectantly last night.  Now the husband knew, but had chosen to keep this snippet of information all to himself.  Bearing in mind that I thought it was just us two this weekend (son number two and ELL are away) food was not high on my list of priorities, so as son number one looked into the fridge (the first port of call for any returning student) I could sense his disappointment.  This is why I always tell my children to speak to the organ grinder rather than the monkey.  

They never learn...