Hate is a strong word and one that I was taught as a child never to use. We could say practically anything except, “I hate you!” to each other, which is probably why my vocabulary is, well, colorful. Let me just clarify that I am typically okay with area rugs, since these are much easier to keep clean, but carpeted floors are a different story. With two guys and three animals roaming the house, it doesn’t take long for crappy carpets to look (and smell) crappier.
Here is the deal with the carpet in our house; it’s bad. I mean really bad. Like maybe it should’ve been replaced five years ago bad. It is mostly one, large matted mess that whenever it gets a little damp a new stain appears, signs that the pad beneath is filthy. I mean, I know we had them professionally cleaned and the guy used a ton more solution than normal as well as spent about three times longer than he would on a normal job, but even he was doubtful that was enough to do the trick. It also seems to have taken on a disgusting odor as of late, one that just does not want to go away. I can handle stains, but the olfactory assault is a little too much. Okay, a lot too much.
So while I was at the grocery store yesterday I wandered into the cleaning supply aisle and decided, what the hell, I was going to get a bottle of deodorizing carpet powder. I plan on sprinkling some down today and letting it sit for a good ten minutes before vacuuming it back up. Something tells me it will be a little more difficult than that, but at the same time, even if it only helps a little bit I’m okay with that.