Drop kids off at school, wander up the street with Grumpy and Chippie, collecting a latte on the way back home.
Greeted at door by they 12 year old who has come to steam clean our carpets. Personally, I think he could have come earlier. Like three years ago. But now is good.
He does the three carpeted bedrooms and leaves. Grumpy retrieves the vacuum and does the rest of the house.
He has this thing with the vacuum. He’s fanatical about it. Turns the CD up and goes about it, leaving the cord plugged into the bathroom socket, halfway up the wall, and the cord trailling down the hall for a week, creating a hazzard for all.
He likes to vac. I like to let him. It’s win- win really.
Chippie and I kept getting in the way, so first up, we rush to the pre-schoolers gymnastics class we were on the waiting list for and just received a call saying we were in. Chippie was none too impressed about being dragged away from Hairy McClary. Then he was completely freaked out by being allowed through the gate he’s spent the last three years not being allowed through.
He managed that by screaming very loudly, then lying on the floor and not moving for about ten minutes. Then he watched a bit. Then ran around a bit. Then hopped up on some equipment and had a bit of a go.
Then said “this is fun” and “I did jumping” …. all the way home …
Where Grumpy was in Full Vacuum Mode. I could tell, because I could hear the CD he had on through the closed windows of the car as I was approaching the (closed) garage. And the lovely next door neighbour said “he vacuuming again? I can tell, he has his music going.”
So Chippie and I had a bath. To keep more out of the way.
It was when I got out that I realised the bedroom carpets were wet and I coudn’t go in to retrieve clean knickers. This is not good. I don’t cope well with this. I’m more than happy to throw on the clothes I had on earlier; they weren’t that dirty. But I do need knew undies.
I wander down to the kitchen. Grumpy is vacuuming the meat drawer in the fridge (which is where we keep our cheese. Of course). I check the tea towel drawer to see if there’s a clean pair of undies in there.
My mind happens to return for a moment. I’m rifling through the tea towels to find knickers, and Grumpy is attending to the frozen peas at the bottom of the freezer with the vac.
Yup. The house has officially gone mad.