Now you know my blog is about the mundane right? Ok then read on......
About 6 years ago, Mr Woog and I went shopping for some rugs for our floor boarded house. We had a crawling baby and the surface was not conducive to forward moving. Plus is was fricking freezing.
With the word "budget"always being at the forefront of Mr Woog's thinking, we went to a rug shop, you know one of those ones that were "Closing Down" "End of lease sale" "Only 2 Weeks to Go!". Except that I still walk past that same shop every day.
But anyway, we thought ourselves a bit fancy and bought a (cheap large nasty faux') traditional rug that we thought was just the height of sophistication. In fact, we bought a matching hall runner. All we were missing was a roaring open fire with a stuffed Boar's head hanging over it and a bottle of port next to the wingback chair.
Fast forward 6 years and Oh - If that rug could talk! That rug has seen the Woogs grow. It has mopped up weetbix and milk. It has been scribbled on. It has scratch marks from Wilson. It has rarely been steam cleaned (ok it has never been steam cleaned.) That rug does not show up vomit marks. It is the perfect change mat for wriggling toddlers. It is sticky and stinky beyond belief.
It has been witness to many many tantrums and dramatic scenes. It has been pummelled by emo two year olds, temper tantruming three year olds and the occasional rant and rave by a 37 year old.
That rug has permanent glitter embedded into the fibres. There is a large area dedicated to Play-Doh scraps. If you look super carefully, you might find whole eco-systems living in it.
That rug has been the scene for many of Jacks planned and impromptu concerts. Here is one that I think sums everything up quite nicely. (two dances on one week on WoogsWorld - must stop watching Toddlers and Tiaras)
And sadly on Friday night, Mr Woog dropped a bottle of red wine in the middle of it. As we silently watched the red liquid symbolically seep across and stain the carpet, we realised the rug had died. We bade farewell to stinky rug and gave it a good send off.
About 6 years ago, Mr Woog and I went shopping for some rugs for our floor boarded house. We had a crawling baby and the surface was not conducive to forward moving. Plus is was fricking freezing.
With the word "budget"always being at the forefront of Mr Woog's thinking, we went to a rug shop, you know one of those ones that were "Closing Down" "End of lease sale" "Only 2 Weeks to Go!". Except that I still walk past that same shop every day.
But anyway, we thought ourselves a bit fancy and bought a (cheap large nasty faux') traditional rug that we thought was just the height of sophistication. In fact, we bought a matching hall runner. All we were missing was a roaring open fire with a stuffed Boar's head hanging over it and a bottle of port next to the wingback chair.
Fast forward 6 years and Oh - If that rug could talk! That rug has seen the Woogs grow. It has mopped up weetbix and milk. It has been scribbled on. It has scratch marks from Wilson. It has rarely been steam cleaned (ok it has never been steam cleaned.) That rug does not show up vomit marks. It is the perfect change mat for wriggling toddlers. It is sticky and stinky beyond belief.
It has been witness to many many tantrums and dramatic scenes. It has been pummelled by emo two year olds, temper tantruming three year olds and the occasional rant and rave by a 37 year old.
That rug has permanent glitter embedded into the fibres. There is a large area dedicated to Play-Doh scraps. If you look super carefully, you might find whole eco-systems living in it.
That rug has been the scene for many of Jacks planned and impromptu concerts. Here is one that I think sums everything up quite nicely. (two dances on one week on WoogsWorld - must stop watching Toddlers and Tiaras)
And sadly on Friday night, Mr Woog dropped a bottle of red wine in the middle of it. As we silently watched the red liquid symbolically seep across and stain the carpet, we realised the rug had died. We bade farewell to stinky rug and gave it a good send off.
What would you throw in my skip?
