Another Sh*t-filled Day in the Life

I have a 9-year-old dog and two kids.  My carpet probably harbors more bacteria than a frat house toilet. I can no longer trust in my Bissell Steam Cleaner after watching my husband scrub up dog diarrhea and then put the machine back in the closet.  The bristles must be chock full of e-coli.

Another steam cleaner story... warning:  this could turn your stomach or make you stop reading this blog.

My non-germaphobe husband -- instead of pouring the dog-diarrhea-water down the TOILET where other sh*t water and sh*t goes -- he pours it in our UTILITY SINK.

Where it completely PLUGS UP the sink due to the vast amount of DOG HAIR. (Did I mention said 9-year-old dog was a Labrador Retriever?)

Therefore, my utility sink, once lovingly used for crafts and hand-washables, fills up with hairy sh*t water.

Guess who gets to clean it up?

I seriously did not know where to start besides the obvious choice of blowing chunks while screaming (chunks included) at my wonderful husband.

So, I took two chopsticks and lifted the hair out.  Small clump by small clump until the sh*t water slowly gurgled down the drain. (Note to Martha:  new use for chopsticks).

Honestly, even after letting pure bleach sit in there for about 25 minutes, I cannot go back.  That sink is dead to me.

This is my life.

(P.S. THIS might explain a little more about my mental state of mind when I think of my carpet, my steam cleaner, and now my utility sink)