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A Vacuum Story

Here is a completely fictional scenario that is not at all about me and my life:

Imagine an eight-months pregnant woman has a deep desire to clean and organize the basement playroom. One evening she asks her husband to carry the heavy vacuum cleaner downstairs so she can suck up all the itty bitty bits of dried up Playdoh that are scattered EVERYWHERE.

The next day she spends the bulk of her afternoon picking up toys and sorting them, but doesn’t have time to vacuum. Before you know it, the kids have spilled the contents of ALL of the toy boxes all over the floor AGAIN. But then, without being asked, the woman’s husband cleans up all of the toys over the weekend!

On Monday morning, however, the woman notices that the floors have still not been vacuumed and the Playdoh bits are starting to spawn snippets of paper and assorted other crap. But her husband did remember to bring the vacuum cleaner BACK UP THE STAIRS without it ever so much as being turned on.

In this purely hypothetical scenario, dear readers, is it safe to assume that the husband has some sort of floor blindness? (And also zero nerve endings on his feet because how do you even walk on that shit?) Perhaps it’s a cognitive defect related to detecting dirty floors in general.

And also crap piled up on surfaces. But that’s a different story.

The End