Yup, you see the picture. There they are, the culprits. Billy and I are beginning to master the art of steam cleaning. So much so that I think we have a bright future at Stanley Steamer.
Let's just say that Jalapeno has provided us numerous opportunities lately to become quite familiar with our new portable steam cleaner. When our Christmas tree was up, he apparently mistook the area for his own personal nature preserve. Almost daily we would discover this confusion. Unfortunately, we've come to expect this from him.
But now Peno has found himself a cohort. Last Sunday we were lazily enjoying our tv time upstairs. Billy was playing a video game, I was snuggled underneath a blanket, Elijah was playing with some toys, and the dogs were taking a snooze. When what do my wondering eyes did appear? An explosion from the tiny shorts of our little tot that was near! So we immediately went into Defcon 3 mode. Billy carried Elijah downstairs. You know the kind of carrying I'm talking about--arms extended, body swaying below, careful not to cross contaminate another innocent bystander or object.
So, I went to reach for Peno. Bad mistake. He is apparently growing increasingly weary of me and likes to pee every time I try to pick him up. Needless to say we had two areas of post-war cleanup to deal with upstairs. So much for a day of rest!
Cue the Stanley Steamer jingle..."Call on the experts to clean it right, call on Billy and Stephanie!"
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