Our house got an extreme clean make-over yesterday. We were prepping for Daughter 1's big screen debut and, on the off chance the camera man decides to shoot the home for extra footage (or to send in to Hoarders), I wanted the house to be clean. Call me weird that way.
Daughter 2 is no fool. She arranged a sleepover for herself so that she spent the entire day gone. This was (say it with me) "not fair!" as Daughter 1 pointed out time and again throughout the day.
We pushed on. The Dad and I divided the jobs among the three of us and after a few more rounds of "not fair!" I decided to just shut it and do my jobs.
The major job that Daughter 1 had was vacuuming the front room. I was in the kitchen scrubbing God-only-knows-what out of the microwave (you never know when the camera man might decide to film where Daughter 1's cheese is melted over her chips), and I heard the vacuum making a weird, whining sound.
(Side note: The Dad and I bought this vacuum for each other on our third anniversary. Go ahead and tell me romance is dead.)
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PS - that's her second pair of pajamas for the day.
I'm raising a lazy princess.
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The whining continued for a moment more and then the vacuum shut off. I prepared myself to hear the ranting from Daughter 1 about how she couldn't continue vacuuming with all that whining going on. Instead, I heard her sweet, sweet voice singing "Poker Face."
"Honey?" I called out, "Why's the vacuum off?"
"'Cause it was whining, Momma."
"So, you want me to try and fix it?" I said wiping my hands on a kitchen towel and walking toward the front room.
"It's alright," she called back.
It's alright? Oh no it's not. She had a job to do and she was going to do it. I rounded the corner and saw her still pushing the power-less vacuum across the floor, still singing about being a chick in the casino.
"What are you doing?" I asked the crazy-looking kid pretending to vacuum.
"I'm vacuuming."
"No," I said, "The vacuum's not on; it's not working. You're just pushing the vacuum back and forth."
With a slight little shrug she said, "Yeah. Same difference, though." Then she continued to push the turned-off vacuum all across the floor before winding the cord up and putting it away.
Maybe I should check exactly how she dusted the living room.
