Something about the vacuum brings both delight and fear to my son. Throughout the day, my son will point out specks of dirt and suggest we vacuum by performing an adorable weed whacker imitation complete with motions, followed by a yuck and a nod. Like, hello ma, don’t you think it’s about time we vacuumed this joint. Ok, fine. I have nothing better to do.
He will then rush to the closet in fits of laughter and drag the thing to me. As soon as I plug that sucker in however, life changes drastically. The Kraken becomes a hysterical whining mess as he scampers throughout the room to rescue all things near and dear to his heart from the floor. First the paci and blanket, next his books, then his toys and last but not least (I like to hope anyway) he attempts to rescue his sister, Rosie. Up onto the chair he leaps and mumbles to himself while the cleaning continues.
Clean floor. Vacuum off. The Kraken is back to his normal state of silly and takes the vacuum back to the closet scattering belongings as he goes. Rinse. Repeat. Multiple times a day. Mine are the cleanest floors in all the land. Thanks Mr. Kraken for seeing the dust that superman misses. You are the best.
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