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Home » 9to5to9, Big Guy's story

Yes, he does windows

Submitted by on Sunday, 1 June 2008 No Comment
Originally published Nov. 3, 2007, thehive.modbee.com  Anyone know where the nearest center for genetic research is? Stanford, maybe? Because experts need to examine Big Guy. He’s displaying behavior that definitely doesn’t come from Dad or me. Seems the boy loves to clean. It goes way beyond the usual kiddy “aw, aren’t they cute standing tip-toe on the stool washing dishes” stuff. The past two Fridays, he’s been dying to get home to clean. It’s even more amazing when you consider that Friday is ice cream night, and he’s consistently picking hot water over hot fudge. Two weeks ago, it was my car. “Mommy, it looks like a garbage can in here.” He had a point. “Let’s clean it out when we get home.” Last week, it was the windows, every one in the house that he could reach. Tonight, he started crying real tears when Dad was ready to take out the trash before Big Guy had finished his dinner. It could be recessive genes at work. Just like my brown-eyed brother and his brown-eyed wife had a blue-eyed baby, it’s possible I have produced a clean-freak child. My father-in-law is practically obsessive-compulsive about dirt. I dare a crumb to ever land on his kitchen floor. My mother vacuums at least twice a day. Maybe that's why Dad and I run more to slobbish. My husband prefers clean-up by pile-up. Just stash it in a closet or corner or garage, until all the stashing places are ready to explode. Then nag the wife about keeping too much junk lying around. I’m more of a neat freak, albeit a frustrated one lately because of all the piles. I cannot stand not being able to find my stuff. But being a neat-freak isn’t the same thing as being a clean freak. I’ve been known to put off vacuuming until the dust bunnies have dust bunnies. Just say the word vacuum around Big Guy, and he’s running to the garage to haul it out. I realize that loving the vacuum at this age doesn’t do much to establish his credentials. It’s big, it makes noise, it’s almost like a power tool. What’s not to love about a vacuum? Windows? I’m sure that new pastime is rooted in the thrill of the spray bottle. But the car? And garbage? The neat thing is, this is all his initiative, and maybe that’s the key. I get a grumble now when I ask him to help with laundry, and he used to love doing that. The key difference: I’m asking , which means it’s no longer his idea. So just as I’ve learned to (try) to pick my battles, maybe I should let him pick his chores. After all, it really doesn’t matter to me who does what, as long as it gets done by someone in addition to me. Meanwhile, I’m going to start trying to figure out a way to wire an Xbox to a vacuum. I’m sure that no matter what I try, within five years cleaning will have lost its luster.  Copyright 2007 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.

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