I Thought I Found Jesus

The house we live in was built in 1986. It has some fabulous features (like a skylight in the bathroom) and some not-so-fabulous features (like pink shag carpet). We were fortunate enough to find a house with great bones that we were able to see past all the annoying "features" (and it was on the market a long time because no one else was able to see its possibilities).

It is a split level house (not split entry, mind you!). The lowest level has the garage, a game room, a full bath, laundry room and family room. This level is on concrete slab. We haven't spent a lot of time down there because it is cold and because the carpet is repulsive. It is beyond repulsive.

The family we bought from had a Jack Russell that was litterbox trained. At least that's what they said.

When we moved in with our dog and two cats we noticed a strange odor. It wasn't long before we realized the cats (who are moody beasts) were peeing on this lower level. Their litter boxes were in the laundry room. But they seemed to prefer the carpet. I think they were both pissed that this new house does not offer the sunbeam opportunities of the last and they were trying to mask the smell of something else.

Then the dog began to poop down there. We adopted a second dog and she would poop down there. Foster dogs come in and out of the house and they use the carpet when it is much too cold outside for their delicate little feet. We own a carpet cleaner, but it was still getting out of hand.

Let's just say it is now BEYOND disgusting.

I had had it on Friday. I tried to nap, but I laid there picturing myself ripping out the carpet. (Much like in our last house when I felt the burden of turquoise lift from my shoulders when I painted over our ugly basement walls in a soft light tan.) So after the boys woke up, we headed downstairs and I began ripping.

The infant bounced in a Johnny Jump Up while the toddler played daddy's drums and sang songs to amuse Mommy. It was the most fun I had ever had downstairs!

I started with the gameroom since that seems to be the room the animals hate the most. Hubby and I had decided to rip up the carpet and just paint the concrete underneath. I mean, why bother? We have dogs and two kids! If we hate it, we can carpet over it later!

Hubby came home as I was ripping up the carpet. He hadn't responded to my emails. Was he really busy? Or did he know I was in a mood?

At one point, I was ripping up the carpet and some of the foam had a weird print on it. I stared and stared. It was Jesus. What was Jesus doing on my carpet padding? Seriously! I mean, the people who built the house had some bad taste, but Jesus? I called hubby down.

He took one look at it and said, "Um. Stand up and look at it again. It's a Bloodhound."

And it was.

So I thought I found Jesus. But I didn't.