Given the choice, Scott and I would have put tile or hardwood floors downstairs. We bought too late in the building process, and ended up with the generic beige plush carpet instead. We've been pretty laid-back about the carpet, figuring when it got destroyed, we'd have an excuse to replace it.
Right now, there's two workers in the house that my office window faces. They're painters, doing final touch-ups. One was just sanding paint off the tile right inside the front door, and I thought about asking him to come over and scrape the ridiculous amount of paint on my powder room and laundry room floors. But I digress...
While they had the door open I noticed something else - their voices were echoing like crazy. I'm not so sure I want to live in an echo chamber. Those echoing voices also reminded me of babysitting the four Whirling Dervish kids when they lived in the house with the hard wood and the vaulted ceilings. No matter how well-behaved they were, every time I left I would soak up the quiet in my car on the way home. I craved it. Squeals of delight bouncing off every wall... *shudder*
Maybe hardwood isn't for me. And as for you, no cola/juice/red wine in the carpeted areas!