Last night, Mark and I were being silly (not the kind of silly you’re thinking of) and he fell off the side of the bed. While he was lying on the floor, he caught a glimpse of the badlands of beneath the bed and the creatures and ecosystems that had begun to develop there. It disturbed him so much, he had to go immediately to get the Swiffer Sweeper. When he lifted the ugly ball of fuzz interwoven with enough hair to create a small cat, it was hard to deny that the hair had probably come from me. (Mark is beautifully bald.)
Today I was reflecting on the gargantuan dust bunny nestled beneath our haven-of-rest and I began to feel dismayed. It inspired me into a cleaning fit, of sorts. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from Mary Poppins, it’s that with every job that must be done there is an element of fun, you find the fun and SNAP the job’s a game…. So I decided to approach the carpets and floors in my house as a Hair-Buster. You know…
When there’s something strange….
underneath the bed…..
who ya gonna call….
Hair-Busters…..da da da dah da.
There was hair to bust EVERYWHERE. I don’t know how I generated so much of it. I could go into business as a sheep and get sheared several times a year to make beautiful afghans. It’s in the corners of the kitchen and behind the garbage can. It’s stuck to the sink and to the bathroom scale and to the rugs and the carpets. It’s stuck to my pants and shirts if I forget to put a fabric softener Bounce sheet into the dryer. It’s absolutely everywhere. It’s on the pillows and the blankets and it’s in the nooks and crannies where it’s hard to vacuum because there are electrical cords there. Today, I busted it all, baby. Stoically armed with Vacuum, Swiffer and broom, I came, saw and conquered!
At least until next week.