One of the perks of Brad working for a car company is that they give us a brand new company car every six months.  I'm not going to lie - it is pretty nice (I thought about downplaying it for modesty sake, but then decided that would be ungrateful of me).

So, about a week ago, we traded our six-month old company car (full of old french fries, dead leaves, and forgotten school art work) for a pristine, brand-spanking-new car.  For a few days, we cruised around, basking in the hum of a new engine and the scent of stiff new leather.

Then, on Wednesday when I took the kids to their church activities, Pepper stepped in a huge pile of dog poo on his way to the car.  It was dark, and Pepper was oblivious, so he climbed in the car and proceeded to smear said dog poo all over the carpet on the passenger side.  It took about 10 seconds before all of us in the car were gasping for air and totally grossed out.  

Of course, when we saw the problem, we immediately stopped the car and made Pepper get out and clean off his shoes.  We wiped up the poo the best we could with the packet of tissues I had in my purse (five minutes I never want to relive), and when we got home Jessica took a bottle of sanitizing cleaner to the carpet and gave it a good scrubbing.  Problem solved, right?

Wrong.  

Despite all the scrubbing and leaving the windows open at night when the car was in the garage, for days the car has still stunk.  Reeked.  So bad that every time we drove anywhere, I would look in the rear view mirror and see Adam's head hanging out the window and Luke's eyes watering as he tried to suppress his gag reflex.

So today I couldn't stand it any longer.  I armed myself with a scrub brush, soap, and rubber gloves to attack the offending carpet.  But before I started scrubbing, I found what I believe to be the lingering culprit:

This was hiding under the seat - a big hunk of dog poo wrapped in dead leaves.

Holy Crap.