Another one bites the dust . . .

That is, another perfect hardwood floor gets messed up. 

It should be noted that "another" suggests there was, in fact, a previous one that had been perfect - well, that's not entirely accurate (can you hear Independence Day in there?!). It was never perfect, although it had the opportunity to be. 

That story: last summer, Brad, my mom, my dad, and I refinished two of the hardwood floors in our house - my office and Brad's office. We did his first and did a less fabulous job b/c, well, we didn't know what we were doing, but even still, it's amazing-looking, especially when compared to the crap show it previously was. 

In my office, we had a bit of a clue, and our sanding was much more even (if no less tedious and torturous in 86-degree weather when we couldn't turn the air on b/c sawdust would get into the HVAC system and we couldn't turn any fans on b/c sawdust would get in our eyes). The oak thus took the stain more evenly, and, on the whole, the floor looks wunderbar. 

Except for the footprint. And its cousin the toeprint. 


It's not pee. I swear. 


Yep, Brad stepped in the wet stain. And we didn't see it until it had dried the next morning. Why didn't we see it? Well, b/c LIKE IDIOTS we did the staining at night so we had only lamps to show us what we were doing and only lamps to illuminate what we'd done. There's not even an overhead in that room. (Instead, there's one of the house's 1800 ceiling fans - I hate ceiling fans everywhere except for porches.) 

I'd detail the efforts to repair this disaster, but, obviously, they didn't work. I spent two weeks in distress over the fact that my beautiful floor was, essentially, jacked up from the get-go. And over the fact that either 1.  it needs to be fixed next time we tackle floor business (which will NOT be this summer) or 2.  when we sell the house, we'll be selling it with a messed up floor despite having spent tons of money and tons of effort to make it look nice. 

So that's that. 

Now, onto this story: I got SUPER GLUE and BLACK FELT stuck to the floor this evening. How is this possible? I shudder to think of explaining. It's too soon, far too soon. But I am agrieved. 

The shiny stuff is just the camera flash. But
even so, this looks ridiculous. 

And now I'm in the Stupid People Who Mess Up Their Beautiful Floors Club with my dear Bradley. Someday I hope to be able to to share this tale of woe, but right now I need to nurse my wounds. And eat some hot dogs.