This post was written in collaboration with CarpetRight
dirty carpet

One of the problems with living in a rented house is that we’re very much at the mercy of our landlord when things need fixing. Largely, he’s pretty good and he’ll send a tradesman over to sort things out, or attend to it himself if he’s in the country. However, there are certain things which aren’t seen to in such a timely fashion, such as our truly, completely grim living room carpet.

When we moved in, the landlord had refurbished the house, removing the old laminate and replacing it with new carpet. Now, this might seem like a nice thing, having brand new carpet in a rented  house, but in our case it was a curse. You see, our landlord chose a beige patterned carpet, knowing at the time that we had a toddler and a dog, and that the patio doors in our living room were the only way to get in an out of the garden. Skip forward three and a half years and our carpet is looking less beige and more ‘interesting collection of stains’.

If Husband and I owned the house, we’d replace the carpet with cheap laminate flooring, which would solve so many problems – it would be easy to keep clean, it would look SO much nicer than what we have now, and it would save our nerves from jangling every time Chuck comes in from the garden in the winter and we have to quickly try and clean the mud off of his feet before he steps on the carpet!

I’m by no means innocent myself. I’m terrible for leaving drinks on the floor and then inevitably kicking them over as I weave my way through the house like a bull in a china shop, which means several of the stains can be attributed to me. Luckily, I’m not a big drinker, or else red wines stains could have made the situation a whole lot worse!

We’ve asked our landlord if he could think about replacing the carpet with laminate, as we’ve lived here for a while now and aren’t planning on moving any time soon, so hopefully he’ll see sense and sort it out for us, but I can understand why he’d be reluctant to do so, this close to Christmas. All I know is, between my drinks, Chuck’s muddy feet, Sausage’s melted crayons and Husband’s…well, actually, no, Husband is the one innocent party on all of this; something needs to change, because the thought of a baby crawling on our carpet (despite the fact that we’ve had it professionally cleaned TWICE!) is not one that appeals to any of us.