Our Little Green Steam Machine has died! 

Crusher threw-up all over his most adorable Pottery Barn Kids over commercialized, "If I don't have this rug I'll die" rug, and the Little Green Machine lost her steam.  Fortunately, Crusher had only eaten 40,000 blueberries washed down with purple Dimetapp prior to launch, so as you can imagine, the rug is now in a better place. 
This is such a vivid example of how bad things happen to good people.  But not so fast.  Maybe I'm not so good after all.  Maybe my carpet cleaner died because of that time in the sixth grade I made fun of Sandi Rosenbooger.  No, that wasn't her name.  It was Sandi Rosenass.  No, that's not nice.  It was Rosenberg.  Sandi bandi bo bandi, banana fana fo fanny, Sandi Rosenberg.  That was it.  The bitch.

If all of this wasn't bad enough, and I think we can all agree it was, this morning I pulled out of the driveway to discover this:

The rug had been laid to rest.  Ethan took it out with the trash this morning and had discreetly tried to hide it beneath the cover, clearly to spare me the emotional trauma of having to say good-bye to my beloved.  Thanks, Ethan.  Thanks, rug.  You will be missed forevermore.  You have left a big gaping hole in my heart, and on my son's floor:

Sometimes life hands us lemons, and we make lemonade.  Sometimes it hands up blueberries marinated in Dimetapp, and we make a plea on our blog for the names of new and improved portable carpet cleaners.  Evolution, it's the darndest thing.  First opposable thumbs, now this.


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