You know, the stuff in the big bottles that is kept at the top of the pantry in a locked closet so that accidents do not happen?? Well…. I’m putting aloe on my sunburn after a long day at the theme parks, we are all exhausted from this day and my husband is out in the living room, presumably watching the little destroyer. Apparently he wasn’t watching close enough, because five minutes later I come out to find the entire bottle of oil poured all over the beloved duck and the carpet. Oh, horrible day that my child learned how to unlock and open doors and twist off caps!!
Daddy got the job of looking on the Internet and figuring out how to get the oil out of the carpet. However, the moment that he left his wireless Playstation controller to go look for this information, the troublemaker (also covered in oil, of course) came running over and grabs the controller with his hands which are coated in oil. So now we have a wireless controller with oil all over it, a greased baby, greased carpet, and a greased duck.
I go to work on the greased baby, sticking him right back in the shower (this is not even ten minutes after he has just gotten out of the shower with me, all clean and ready for bed), much to his dismay. Apparently, being alone in the shower is the worst fate that any baby can suffer, calling for frantic flopping around like a dead fish in an attempt to escape. The horrible shrieks probably had the neighbors wondering what kind of a place we were running, and the new bite marks on my arm were a testament to the horror that was a shower (although it was a joyous occasion 10 minutes ago with Mommy in the shower, of course).
In the meantime, Daddy is deep-frying the carpet with an iron and a towel. Aside from making us crave fried food, it really was drawing up the oil. So if this ever happens to you, put a towel down and iron over it with steam to pull up the oil. The duck and all the towels went directly into the washing machine with lots of detergent, and the baby was cuddled and calmed down a little (with plenty of sobs still emitting from the shaking little body).
Now for the controller. I go to take the batteries out so that I don’t disrupt the still-running game, and shock myself with the oily batteries. Ugh. Of course, water does nothing to help this situation, so I try the vinegar that Daddy is now using to rinse the fried carpet. Twenty minutes of scrubbing later, it seems to be less greasy, and the washer cycle has ended.
Alas, the duck is still covered in oil. Hauling the still-furious baby with me so he won’t get near the hot iron, I drag the duck into the bathroom with a bottle of baby shampoo. I shampooed the duck in HOT water, took a baby hairbrush and scrubbed his fur, then put him back in the washer, with the little one screaming for the duck the whole time of course. Two dryer cycles later, he was only slightly damp, but after listening to an endless cry for “my duck-duck” for two hours, he got the duck back. He still smelled like baby shampoo and was still a little oily but a lot better, so he is back in action for the moment, though somewhat worse for wear.
During these dryer cycles, I started hunting for a replacement duck. Of course it has to be exactly the same duck, and even then this switch is doubtful. You would think it would be fairly easy to Google a stuffed duck and find it, right??
Wrong. The funny thing is that it was a $12 Easter duck from Kohl’s that I just bought for fun – he has several other stuffed ducks that he likes, but he latched onto this duck in particular. Of course I took the tags off, so I didn’t know who made the duck, hence the extra time spent searching.
$30 and 30 minutes of my time later, I have a new duck coming. Watch, he’ll know the difference and refuse it now. Of course, it’s money I really don’t have, but the screaming that will result if we lose this duck is worth the debt, right?