Floored

Note: the following message is not for those who cringe at words like, "vomit". We thought we would perhaps just leave the carpet in New House for a while. Then Buster threw up on it. The new flooring planks were picked up and stacked in the dining room to wait for installation. Well, what's the rush? This weekend is Easter... then Buster threw up on the carpet again.
Good Friday saw furniture moved, carpet pulled up, and a race to purchase a larger saw before DIY Big Box closed for the night. Saturday was a long day of the mister's hard work, smashed fingers, and the new floor creeping across the concrete from wall to wall. Sunday dawned, and we took a break from Home Improvement to celebrate Easter.
Immediately after marking the biggest day of the year with the great herds of the faithful, we returned home to breakfast al fresco on the back patio where all the dining room chairs resided temporarily. After six hours of solid work, the mister took another brief, but well-deserved, break to eat Easter dinner in the living room. We were at the dining room table, having brought the chairs in from the patio long enough to eat. (I can see the women's and lifestyle magazines racing to get to the newsstand with the headline, Progressive Easter Dining.) Anyway.
No sooner was our feast concluded than the man was back at work on the floors. As I finished the dishes, he discovered an insufficiency in his supplies. We headed over to DIY Big Box to procure one more package of moisture barrier. It was the closest thing to a date we are likely to enjoy in the weeks to come. On the way, we talked about what a pain the floors were, and how it was taking up all of the weekend. The mister again mentioned repeatedly thinking about leaving the carpet, but that Buster had convinced him otherwise.
While we were out, the phone rang with a call from the girls at home. From the mister's conversation, it became quickly evident that something had thrown up on the floor. At least the floor wasn't carpet.