From Dada: The Clean Gene

I am growing less averse to housework, especially now that it's part of my job description, but up until a year ago I was 100% classifiable as a messy person. When Dada and I were first married, there were several times where I actually cried my way out of doing household chores because they made me so unhappy.

Thank God, but evidently this messiness did not transfer genetically from me to my son. Case in point: the vacuum cleaner. Since Grandma and Grandpa Ross and Uncle Chrissy taught him how to say "vacuum", he has been obsessed with the thing. Now that we are home together, he is thoroughly entertained to go room-to-room with me and just stand there, watching, occasionally pointing out to me "Hey, did you know that's the vacuum?" Today we were vacuuming the kitchen floor (in preparation for mopping when the babysitter comes! That's how un-messy I am now!), and he gestured to me that he would like to try his hand at cleaning with the attachment. Boy, did he go to town. Here he is, vacuuming his high chair (COMPLETELY his idea):



He's small, right? So I asked him if to crawl under the table for me and get at all the nasties there. He happily obliged:



Think this is all too cute to be true? Check out the video footage I got of him vacuuming the rest of the kitchen floor all by himself. To download it, click here, and make sure you turn your sound way down or even off. Because the vacuum's running, of course.

And no, he's not for hire. I'm thinking, with my inborn disposition to messiness, I'm going to need all the help I can get.