Sunday, May 4, 2008

The Law of New Carpet

There is a law irrevocably decreed before Heaven which states: Within a week of purchasing new carpet, your children will destroy it. Amen.

Truly we were hoping that we had somehow escaped the wrath of the carpet gods which take great delight in orchestrating the downfall of newly installed carpets all across the country. But no. Not us. We are Johnsons which translates into "Ruin the heck out of it!" if you happen to be a carpet god. Now the powers that be cannot ruin the carpet on their own so they usually contract with smallish type children to do the actual dirty work. Enter Marcus. 

Marcus is just starting to get curious and is pretty strong for his size and likes to carry things around the house (Note: those three things are very bad if they occur in the same sentence). So yesterday morning as my wife was sleeping peacefully, Marcus Curious spied the large syrup refill bottle and decided that it would be fun to carry it around for a while. After reaching his bedroom he began to get curious about whether or not he could open it. The answer to that question, unfortunately was yes. I believe it was about here that the carpet gods put the thought into his mind to do a quick gravity check on the syrup. Sigh. Then, with the carpet covered with a quart of syrup the carpet gods suggested to Marcus's mind that it might be fun to sort of throw the syrup around the room as though he were tied to a mechanical bull. I'm so glad I wasn't home. 

Later that day, after the syrup had been cleaned and the smell of maple syrup no longer hung in the air like a thick fog, the carpet gods suggested to Marcus that shampoo would be a much better thing to pour on carpet because it is pink and bubbly. 

Suffice it to say, Marcus is still alive albeit barely and the carpet--well, the carpet is not new anymore. The carpet gods have once again succeeded in their duty. As for the rest of us, Alex is enjoying baseball, Josh is learning about ebay, and Parker is enjoying stumping around with one leg stuck into a thick, cardboard poster tube. He calls it his "wooden-leg named 'Smith'". 

That's all the news from the desk here at Bonehead Central, so until next time consider tile. 

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