I'm upstairs drinking Di Saronno and two nice ladies are trying trying TRYING to vacuum up the Elvis poo problem in the basement. They think they can get the smell and the actual. . . you know. . . out of the carpet, but probably won't be able to get the stain out.
I am absurdly proud of that carpet. Was absurdly proud of that carpet. It's thick and beautiful and tasteful. And its loss to tacky stinkiness and stainhood is a little too much for me at the moment.
I think we have to move.