"Quiet Time" is almost over so I don't have long to bring you up to speed. I'm gonna move fast so try to keep up.
I'm a 33 year old dad. Until 2 days ago I was working and my wife stayed home with the kids. We have a 3 year old boy and a 19 month old daughter. Yes, I realize I'm passing the opportunity to insert a quip about their ages being close together, yada yada yada but as I said, I'm on a deadline.
My wife invented Quiet Time for our son. Our daughter still naps during the day, but if he naps he is up till Oh Dark thirty. Quiet Time is when he has to stay in his room and play with toys and not wake the baby. In a word, my wife is a super-genius.
So my wife is at her first day of work. I am amidst my first day of full time stay at home dad. This blog is to let you know how that works out. I don't intend to capture every moment of every day, I don't tweet for that very reason. However, I was cleaning today and had a moment.
Vacuuming is an ordeal in my home. My kids are petrified of the noise of the vacuum makes when it fires up and they don't dig on the light coming at them. It is my responsibility as a good parent, (which I like to think I am) to notify them on impending vacuum start-ups. Think NASA countdowns, and the poor shlubs NASA moved next door to.
Having told the kids the vacuum would start soon and given them the time to hide I began working. I was really getting it too. I was using the crevice tool and everything. I feel the need to say this because 1. Its my wife's first day at work so I really wanted to make a noticeable dent in the housework. and 2. That's what guys do. When we do a job right we want credit. Not a reason why we should do it right every time.
So I'm really workin till the vacuum begins making a noise like it has a plastic toy horn in it. I am well enough versed in vacuum usage that I know when it needs fixing and how to do basic maintenance. I flip it over and look for the usual suspects. The roller thingy (actual technical term) doesn't look like a wookie has been visiting. I see no debris in the suction hole and nothing that should indicate a problem. I flip it back over, fire it back up and two things happen simultaneously.
First, the vacuum still sounds like a weeble wobble got sucked in it and is screaming while playing the french horn. Second, my kids who had snuck up behind me to see if the vaccuming was done, and the dogs who snuck up behind them to see what was interesting did not receive notice of the impending launch. The kids fled in fear, screaming bloody murder around the table and out of the room. This would have been easier if there had not been a yorkie and a lab who were frightened of the vacuum and also trying to turn around to flee.
After killing the vacuum and restoring a sense of order to the pile of fur and arms and legs, I went back to my repairs. In the detachable hose ending I found a ribbon wrapped in paper and a bit of toothpick. I found all this out later because at the time it was about a foot deep in the hose.
Wire hangers are of absolutely no use whatsoever, until you have to have one in a pinch. Needless to say, I didn't have one. I engineered a tool out of a piece of bamboo, electric tape and a plastic display rack hook from a hat the boy had recently worn for the first time.
As I fished the offending ribbon out, I thought, "I should really write this down. I would read this and think all this is funny." Not that I'm presumptuous enough to think I'm funnier than other people.
Well, actually I guess I am. I see things differently and do things differently than other people. Not in the redneck, "Ya wanna see somethin neat?" kind of way. Just a few degrees off plumb. Just enough off kilter that its worth taking a second look at.
I hope this blog allows me to convey some of what I see as a new Mr. Mom.
And to close I really need a new title. Michael Keaton is awesome but the name is a little 1985 for me.
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