Summer fun continues--ouch! By James E. Boyd B. J. had mentioned it several times before her summer vacation from school. “We’ve got to do some housecleaning and yard work.” On Tuesday morning, I was awakened from a deep sleep by an unsettling declaration from B. J.’s side of the bed. “I want to vacuum the house today.” At first, in my drowsy state, I thought I must have been having a bad dream. Then the “bad dream” continued talking to me. “We’ll start in the den.” A sharp finger in my ribs stirred me from my drowsiness. “Are you listening?” B. J. said in a serious tone. “Do you mean that this is not a nightmare?” “Nope, it is for real.” We’ll get started right after breakfast.” “But I thought we were going to discuss summer travel plans after you got out of school.” “We will do that after we do the house and yard work. We have to get the vacuum cleaners going this morning.” “Vacuum cleaners?…You mean?” “Yep.” We have two vacuum cleaners. One is a light, battery-powered deal that whisks easily over the carpet removing loose debris; it is fairly easy to operate and doesn’t cause me much grief. The other one is a monster that must have been invented by a rancorous wife. The thing is like pushing a lawn mower in the house or doing a workout at the gym. “We will go over the house with the big vacuum cleaner first and then get into the nooks and crannies with the little one,” she informed. “But we were supposed to get back with Rita about traveling to…. “There’s time for that.” After breakfast, we set to moving the furniture so we, uh, I would have room to run the vacuum cleaner. Then I removed the ogre from its lair and readied it for its blitz on the secreted grime lurking in our carpet. “Set the controls so that the cleaner will suck to the carpet and get the deep dirt,” B. J. instructed. “Ouch. Can I have some Ibuprofen before I begin,” I asked. “Ohhhh…a little house work won’t hurt you.” I unwound the electrical cord, plugged it in to the outlet and coaxed the big machine to a starting point. Using my foot on a hickey to release the vacuum cleaner from its upright position, I adjusted it to the best handling mode. I kicked the red “on” switch and the fiend, roared to life. I had the tiger by the tail and it was ready to devour whatever was in its path. I could feel muscles pulling that I hadn’t used in a long time. B. J. had been telling me that I needed to get some exercise and I felt like I was in for a good workout. Our son Richard and granddaughters Whitney and Caroline had been with us for a long Father’s Day weekend and I believe that they conspired with B. J. to put me on the vacuum cleaner detail. Richard, a slim and trim specimen of model manhood observed, “Daddy, all that oyster stew, low country boil and prime rib settled around your mid-section. Pushing the vacuum cleaner will help even things up.” I started the snarling brute slowly. In fact, I had no serious intentions to be in a hurry. “The den is the worst place,” B. J. came over and advised, “You might need to go over it twice.” “Twice?” “Yep. I compelled the contraption on and on and back and forth and up and down the hall, in and out of the bedrooms and as far as I could reach under the beds. B. J. checked on me periodically. “Do we really need to do the living room? We don’t go in there much.” “Yep, I want to do the whole house,” she replied positively. “I want the dining room chairs moved so we can get under the dining room table,” B. J. instructed. There are eight big heavy-duty oak chairs to our dining room set; it is a challenge to move them. It was time for more Ibuprofen. Just as I was finishing up with “Big Boy,” B. J. gave me further word, “Now you can take the little vacuum cleaner and get in the hard-to-get-to places.” At least “Little Boy” wouldn’t be as hard to persuade. “I want to get as much done in the house as we can today so tomorrow we can work in the yard.” I thought about calling B. J.’s school principal to see if she could find something else for B. J. to do for the rest of the summer.
Posted on: Thu, 20 Jun 2013 22:34:09 +0000
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