When I was a young child we vacuumed every Saturday morning. It was chore that even a four-year-old could do. I didn't like vacuuming, I would have preferred to watch Saturday morning cartoons.
My mom didn't believe in child labour so when I returned to live with her, I was relieved of duty. Now, I know why Auntie Alice insisted on vacuuming regularly. Now, because of Root Beer, I understand housework.
My sons haven't had the luxury of living with a regular vacuum routine like I have. Now they're learning.
Socks dropped at the front door are gobbled up just as soon as they hit the floor. Underwear that wanders from the laundry basket can be too easily retrieved by a quick black ball of baby fur. Books, computer paraphernalia and expensive technology are all game for the puppy.
Yesterday I hauled out Big Betty, our carpet-sucking Dirt Devil. Luke and I vacuumed the house from top to bottom and organized the cupboards, counters and flat surfaces. I showed my family how easy it is to keep tidy.
And Spiderman? He didn't even miss us.
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What the nose knows
Root Beer's first bath
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