Tonight I came home from work after a long day of nose-to-the-grindstone technical writing at the office — which was largely emptied of co-workers on this here gorgeous Friday in late August — and found Mr. P in the living room, plugging in the vacuum cleaner.
Hot dog! This made my day. Contrary to my previous beliefs, my husband does know where I keep the vacuum, and he is capable of lifting it and even plugging it in.
Even better, he was listening yesterday when I talked about how I had to clean the house in anticipation of visitors this weekend, because he evidently decided to pitch in by vacuuming!
I threw down my laptop and went to embrace him — quickly, as to not disrupt any housework momentum. That’s when I saw his hard drive box, sitting on the coffee table with the casing removed. That’s when it dawned on me that Mr. P was not vacuuming the house, he was vacuuming his computer. Really, what was I expecting?
(Ay, I can’t really complain. I knew I was marrying a nerd. What’s more, I knew I was marrying a man.)
