My son wants, more than anything else these days, to help me clean. “Mommy, can I clean? Can we clean something?” It’s a sweet thought. Only I have no idea where it comes from because I have never, ever cleaned anything.
Seriously.
We had a bunch of people from the synagogue over for brunch on Sunday. I don’t know them all very well so I thought it was time to maybe attempt a little cleaning. So I pulled out the vacuum cleaner.
Pie looked at it and asked, “What’s that?”
I explained, “It’s a vacuum cleaner. You can use it to clean the floor.”
Doodles asked, “Can I help?” Doodles comes up and holds onto the handle. I put one hand over his.
Then I turned it on. Wails from the little one. “No like! No like!” Pie doesn’t know what to do. She wants to hold my hand, but maintain as much distance between herself and the vacuum cleaner as she can.
So I’m trying to vacuum–something I don’t know really how to do well anyway–with one child in each hand.
I finish. I take a look. There are still crumbs everywhere. So, if I may quote my daughter, “All done vacuuming! All done!” Housecleaning. Isn’t that why God created men? Because God knows, I’m not going anywhere near it again.
