Totally Floored

Kids are loud. They demand every minute of your time. They seem to get delight out of getting every variety of bodily fluid on you. They throw tantrums when you suggest they have something other than chicken nuggets for lunch. Pound for pound, they are the most expensive substance known to man. But kids aren't all bad. Every spring they give back in a beautiful way: a nice fat check from the IRS. Before we had kids, our tax refund was hardly enough for lunch at McDonalds. But this year, it bought us freedom from gross, pilling, stained carpet.


Kids and all, our tax refund wouldn't be enough to have the floors installed, so in order to get rid of the carpet, Chris had to get in tune with his superhero identity. By day, he sits in a cubicle and hides from daylight. If Klingons invaded our planet, he would be able to strike up a crude conversation and perhaps hammer out a peace agreement. He is more interested in what application Google will come out with next than who wins the superbowl. He owns a t-shirt that says "I'm fluent in the language of love: C++". Perhaps I exaggerate. But here's where I don't exaggerate: If Chris puts his mind to a home improvement project, he turns into this guy:



Er... no. Not that guy, this guy:Sorry about that.

So without further delay, here is the before:



And after:


More before:


And more after: Yes, I still have a gross blue couch, but I think even it looks better with bamboo flooring.


Did I help? No, of course not. We weren't even there. We were here:
I hauled the kids to their grandparents' house for three days while Chris worked like a slave to fulfill my wishes. Isn't that the way marriage is supposed to work? If not, please don't anyone tell Chris otherwise because I got a good thing going.

Thanks, Chris for all your hard work. It looks great.