In early 2010, Simon said something that unnerved me. I was upstairs vacuuming when I heard him ask Matt: “Is that Leslie up there?”
Leslie was the housekeeper who came every two weeks. Although I did vacuum between her visits, I didn’t do it much or well. Thus, Vacuum = Leslie in Simon’s three-year-old brain.
Whereas just yesterday, Simon waked in the door, smiled that smile that means he wants something, and declared:
“Mommy, we need to vacuum up this mess.”
There was no mess. He had just vacuumed Sunday, before Alek and Agotich came over to spend the afternoon. Now, nearly a year into being housekeeper-less, Simon sees a lot more vacuuming, and it’s me behind the Kenmore Progressive more often than not. His interest is kind of touching. It’s also emblammatic of his general interest in how everything works. The newest inquiries have led to tours of plumbing in my mom’s basement, an explanation of buried electrical wires, and an up-close look at the vacuum cleaner bag in situ.
I’m on the hunt now for a small, lightweight vacuum that Simon could use. It can’t be a toy that doesn’t work, and it also can’t be too nice. Because I suspect that by the time Simon develops the ability to do a good job, we’ll be fighting over his appalling lack of willingness.