Sunday, August 26, 2012

It Wasn't the Onions

It wasn't the onions that had me misting up as I cooked dinner tonight.  Nor was it shame at the fact I had to work around the dirty breakfast dishes to do so.  No, those were tears of sheer joy.

But first you need to understand something.  Jon has severe allergies to both pets and dust mites.  These allergies make it hard for him to breathe, which is mildly important, but even more importantly for a winemaker, they kill his sense of smell.  This is why despite our love of animals, we don't have pets, and it's why, at the request of his doctor, I do all the vacuuming.

Not so onerous, right?  He still picks up his fair share of the chores.  But the thing is, I HATE VACUUMING.  I once wrote on one of those "20 things about me" that were all the rage when folks my age started using Facebook that I would rather clean toilets than vacuum, and I was half hoping someone would offer to swap jobs with me.  And yes, we joked a lot during the weary journey towards adoption that it would all be worth it once I had someone to do the vacuuming for me.  However, when we first introduced the vacuum cleaner, the kids decided to use it as a weapon, and it wound up in lockdown.  I've been furtively vacuuming when Jon takes both kids out, then re-hiding the machine before they got home. 

Then a few days ago, I pulled it out to help Sasha vacuum up the cup of dry cereal he'd spilled in his room.  That went fine.  A night or two later, Jon got it out to clean up the mess after he'd changed and cleaned the lightbulbs from our dining room chandelier.  Tonight, as I started dinner, Sasha noticed the vacuum cleaner and asked, "Mama, can I do that?"  So while I chopped potatoes and breaded fish, it was to the sweet sound of someone else vacuuming the living room.  I couldn't help but to shed tears of joy. 

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