You just need the right tool

As the Hero and I prepared for guests this weekend -- a process that usually involves panic at the Red Alert level -- we were determined to set about readying the house in a calm, unhurried manner. The key, we decided, was keeping a detailed to-do list, with everything that needed to be done meticulously recorded to keep us on track.


There were 563 things on the list.


We decided the best way to deal with this was just to tackle it head on, so we promptly took a nap. 


Of course we did not nap TOO long, because sleep experts warn that napping too long may interfere with your nighttime sleep. It seems that this problem could be avoided simply by extending your nap INTO your nighttime sleep, something we personally have been tempted to do many times, although not when we are expecting guests, as this might appear rude. 


Rejuvenated by the nap, the Hero announced his intentions of getting right to work: "I think I'll bash a hole in a wall somewhere."


Some readers may remember another time when we were expecting guests, when the Hero, in lieu of cleaning the family room as he was supposed to be doing, bashed a hole in the wall in order to liberate the old fireplace hidden behind it. 


Strongly discouraged, this time, from further bashing of any walls, the Hero declared that he would do all the vacuuming. For this task, however, he needed to go to Best Buy to purchase a new vacuum cleaner.


Was this necessary to do now, today? I inquired. We had a perfectly good one, although the Hero has never liked it ("It's so loud. Why do vacuum cleaners have to be so loud? They make quiet toilets. Apple makes a quiet computer. Why can't someone make a quiet vacuum cleaner?").


It appeared to be extremely necessary to buy a new one now, today.


He returned from the store with a small, bright red canister-type vacuum that partially resembled a mouse with large gray ears and an extremely long tail that stood straight up before plunging to the floor in a graceful loop. Man and machine quickly bonded as they vacuumed their way through the house.


"I like it," he said, and even went so far as to hint that with this vast improvement over our old vacuum -- although he conceded that it might not be as powerful as that one -- he was likely to do more of the cleaning in the future.


I was reminded of a former co-worker who complained that she could never get her husband to help with the housecleaning, until one day they purchased an electric broom. After this, the sweeping of their bare floors became the husband's duty -- nay, his privilege.


"It saved our marriage," my co-worker said. "He'll do anything as long as it involves a machine that plugs in."


So I'm thinking that maybe we women are approaching this business of getting men to help around the house in the wrong way. Clearly what is needed is the right tool. 


Two things concern me about this. An electric tool, and a bare wall with a treasure -- like an old fireplace -- possibly hidden behind it.