I am vacuuming.
We have one of those Dyson vacuums, and a word of explanation is required here. The vacuum has a long removable extendable handle that locks in place when you are not extendo-vacuuming.
The very end of this handle is an open tube, and when the vacuum is in the upright position?
All of the Dyson’s mighty sucking power is devoted to this removable extendo-handle, so that you can vacuum shit that is not the floor.
It isn’t until you pull the handle backward and angle it away from the main vacuum body that the sucking power is transferred to the bottom portion of the vacuum, making floor cleaning possible.
Got that? Here’s a helpful picture.
My fucking sucking would-be assassin vacuum
There is a little sliding plastic grid that slides over the open tube at the top of the vacuum.
To protect you against unwanted sucking.
Unwanted sucking . . . that’s one of those oxymoron guys!
Snort!
Anyway, because I am sort of a crazy person? I never slide this little plastic cover over the top of that sucking tube. Because part of my vacuuming ritual is to check obsessively to see if the Dyson has lost suction power.
And so every time I move to shift the vacuum handle from upright to angled? I take a moment to place my palm against the upright sucking tube.
Yup, still sucking powerfully.
Alright, then.
OK, so I am vacuuming and I am wearing a scarf.
What?
It’s cold here and I am allergic to cold and I wear a scarf in the house most days.
I am all fashionable.
Finish vacuuming this room, pull the vacuum close to me, lock the handle in the upright position . . .
ACK ACK ACK ACK ACK!!!
That was the sound of me choking and struggling to pull my scarf out of the vacuum handle, by the way. Motherfucker tried to kill me!
What the hell?
Vacuum the next room, pull the vacuum close to me, lock the handle in the upright position . . .
ACK ACK ACK ACK ACK!!!
That was the sound of me choking and struggling to pull my scarf out of the vacuum handle . . . again.
It of course does not occur to me to turn the vacuum off, and so I am struggling and choking and gasping and pulling as the Dyson continues to try to suck me to my doom.
Suck me to my doom . . . that sounds like another oxymoron.
But it is not.
Motherfucking vacuum tried to kill me . . . again!
OK, so fuck this.
I look around for a daughter.
I find Maj. Yay!
I pass off the vacuuming job to my older daughter.
Because I am all awesome at this mothering thing.
OK, so now it is later in the day and we are all sitting at the dinner table. I am telling the story of how the vacuum tried to kill me.
I finish my story.
Mark and Kallan both stare at me silently, their faces filled with incredulity.
There is silence for a minute and then Maj giggles.
“Hey, Mother? You know how you gave me the vacuuming job? I got all hot and sweaty carrying the vacuum upstairs to do my bedroom, and so I took a break in the middle of vacuuming my room.”
This is not a good story so far, “Really, Maj?”
She giggles, “So I put the vacuum in the upright position and left it running so that you would think I was vacuuming, but I just stood there for a minute.”
Still not that good a story.
She explains, “I was all hot, so I had this great idea to let the vacuum fan me. So I put my face close to the top so that air would blow on me. Cool me off.”
Snort!
Mark is sputtering with explanations of how vacuums suck and not blow and how both Maj and I are seriously lacking in intelligence and common sense.
I wave him off, “So that must not have gone very well, Maj.”
She laughs, “Nope. The vacuum sucked my hair right in! The vacuum tried to kill me!”
I reach across the table to give Maj a delighted high-five, “YES! You are so my daughter! That is awesome!”
She high-fives me happily.
Mark and Kallan stare at us.
What’s their deal, you think?
Perhaps if Mark or Kallan would vacuum, they too could experience the awesome homicidal tendencies of the vacuum.
The vacuum from hell
Mark is too tall to be in sucking danger where scarves are concerned.
Plus also?
Mark is not allergic to cold and so does not wear a scarf in our house.
Sigh.
And Kallan?
Kallan is the one who vacuumed up a large rock that one loss-of-suction time.
Sigh.
Oh! I get it now!
Kallan is the true target here.
For rock blocking the suction.
The vacuum is just “practicing” on you and Maj.
OK, seriously . . .
That is the funniest thing I have read in quite some time.
Kallan rock-blocked the suction.
I . . .am . . . dying.
Dying, I tell you.
rock blocking the suction OMG that cracked me up
And now Kris is going to think I’m in cahoots with the vacuum in plotting her demise.
Death by comment
I am still giggling.
Still.
Sadly, I’ve been almost killed by far too many cleaning appliances. That’s why I’ve decided not to clean. It’s just too dangerous.
Hmmmm . . .
I wonder if Mark cares about my continued existence enough to just say Fuck it to all of this house-cleaning nonsense.
I think he probably does not.
Sigh.
It’s a wonder any of you are still alive.
Seriously.
I know.
A miracle, really.
Hello, you!
Hello, babe!
Always nice to come and rub myself all over your blog.
You know you are always welcome to rub whatever you like.
On the blog, people.
Dirty-minded people.
On the blog.
I swear. Buncha pervs around here.
And yes, I am the pot.
And yes, you are the kettle.
Excellent.
We will be all blackened and badly behaved together.
it’s so good to know that there are other moms who have no issue with delegating. I’ve got two teens. They trade of on doing the housework i semi-hate – the dishes, the vacuuming, cleaning the pantry, the recycle, the trash, the toilet. (in exchange they get to keep their wifi access and laptops)If only they were old enough to go do the laundry and the food shopping, I’d be in heaven.
this post was awesome. Thanks for sharing.
Was this a post about delegating?
Hold on . . . let me check.
I guess it sort of was!
Look at me . . .I am all good-parenty up in here!
Mark will be so sad I didn’t tag this post “Parenting.”
Snort!
Vanir? Teens can do laundry. I posted the instruction manuals for the equipment on the laundry room wall, showed them the informative tags on the clothing and they had to worry about their own from the time we moved to this house (before that we were in an apartment and it was easier for me to organize the trip to the laundrymay.)
I bought them their own sets og sheets and towels for their new unshaded bedrooms and put them in charge of their own linens too. They were 12 and 14.
But I never had ‘em do groceries. Since i was cooking it made more sense for me to do that.
Auto correct makes me look like dumb. This is not useful. Typing slowly and attentively this time. Dammit.
Nasty assed vacuum needs to have it’s ass kicked!
Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!
I can kinda see you all dressed up as a ninja and coming up on it to destroy it totally with your trusty ninja side-kick Maj! Oh man, I can totally see it!!
Oh man… could be a movie!!
M
The sad part?
I love this vacuum.
It kicks some serious sucking ass.
Swoon!
I am all dysfunctional in my love.
As always.
What?
That is so cute!! like mother like daughter so scrumptious!
Scrumptious?
Snort!
It’s quite obvious that you like to live dangerously when you are cleaning house!
Snort!
Yes, I do.
Because if I died while cleaning?
These people would feel all kinds of guilty.
That would be awesome.
Just one more compelling reason that I DON’T DO HOUSEWORK!!! Plus, Sunday is my day off!
Wait.
You get a day off?
That is so fucking annoying.
Where’s my Union Rep?
Omg roflmao
Yup that’s it.
So I guess the dyson actually works. I need a sucky vacuum. Mine only suck in a bad way. (cat hair & Lizzie hair don’t help)
Ok now I have to share the vibrating plunger blog with my hubby. I think he will appreciate it lol. (being a Costco member and all)
Yes . . . the Dyson is an expensive but awesomely sucky vacuum.
Snort!
They sell them at Costco!
Really.
sounds to me a lot more like inappropriate sucking. Which, there is such a thing indeed.
Didn’t we have a twitter conversation with missAims about sucking? that’s the only twitter-ing I’ve ever read to my Honey. Who really cares nothing about blogging OR Twitter. That’s because he doesn’t realize he’s a potential topic of conversation.
I have many Twitter conversations about sucking.
I will need more details.
Ahem.
And Mark sees my tweets sometimes, and he is all, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Vacuuming,” I tell him.
Snort!
the discussion was about chasing someone down the street yelling “blow-job” at them. If my man read my tweets? He would say exactly the same thing as Mark.
Oh, I remember that!
Snort!
Mark actually sees quite a few of my tweets.
He just shakes his head a lot.
He knows when I am giggling on Twitter that I am causing trouble.
Snort!
Before my Dyson died in the Great Basement Flood v1.0 of 2009, I used to check the sucking all the time.
Why don’t more families discuss sucking & blowing at the dinner table?
More families should discuss sucking and blowing at the dinner table!
I so should have tagged this as a Parenting post.
Snort!
When I was young and lived at home and vaccuuming was my respnsibility? I had to vaccum the stairs with one of those smalle hand held vacs…and I too vaccummed my hair. Scared me to death. Literally it sucked my hair up to my scalp. I thought my mom was going to have to cut it out of my head. Serves me right for bitching about chores.
Ack!
Maj’s hair was simply sucked down the tube. It’s a long tube, so she was never in any danger.
ACK!
Kris,
I assumed from your headline that this post was either about new TSA security procedures or the Clinton Administration. Ahem. I hope your Dyson suckage remains strong. Our $1,000 canister-type Dyson just sucks. I can only assume it was built by GM.
Bill
Bill -
This post does mesh nicely with your post about TSA security measures.
Licky the Bee.
Snort!
I am all giggles.
Kris
So here is where I would normally insert some amusing personal vacuum anecdote. And while I do have one (or maybe it was an ironing board) I’m not feeling well and am too tired for amusing anecdotes and so I will just say:
I’m glad the vacuum cleaner was not successful in its attempt to eat your or Maj.
Love you.
Go to sleep.
I will love you tomorrow as well.
Hugs to you, babe.
And you know I do not offer hugs lightly.
Love.
I LOVE reading the tags to your posts. They crack me the heck up!
Snort!
You said heck.
Snort!