Dyson under seige.

There are some things about my boys I will never understand. One of them is their out and out hatred of the vacuum cleaner. At one time, both boys loved it, Little Dog would fall fast asleep to the white noise of the vacuum at daycare and Big Dog used to love to crash out in the sling while I Hoovered the floors of our flat in San Francisco way back when he was tiny and pretty damn fresh from the womb. Where this all ended, I'll never know. All I know is that now the boys both run like wild things as far and fast as possible in the opposite direction as soon as I bring out the Dyson.
Maybe it is the new powerful pull of the purple beast, or maybe they have just thought up new and more creative things to worry about. Big Dog fears that I will suck him into the vacuum. He also fears that I will suck his toys, the dogs and his little brother right on up with him. I know the Dyson guy claims it never loses suction, but I am damn sure a great dane would block that thing right up. I've tried demonstrating the limitations of the vacuum. I can't suck up puzzle pieces, marbles block the opening and I can always just pull the sock on out of the brushes when I run one over. Big Dog agrees he is much larger than any of those things, but still he flees. I think Little Dog has just picked up on his bigger brother's fear and now claims it as his own.

Today, with both boys in the living room I felt overwhelmed by the desire to vacuum. Well, to be more honest, I felt overwhelmed by the need to walk barefoot in my own house without my feet picking up a 1/2 inch crust of God knows what. (I'm not much of a housekeeper, remember?) So I had the boys help out with collecting up the toys and then brought out the dreaded agent of sucking doom. Their faces froze in terror, eyes as round as saucers. Then the yelling started.
"Little Dog, on the couch! Get! On! The! Couch!"
"Nooooo! Go WAY! Go WAY!"
I did a preliminary pass on the rug in the living room then headed over to the playroom to sweep up the crap on the floor in there. I was about half finished when my vacuum lost power. I turned to go to the living room to check the plug and saw little dog making victory laps on the living room rug, cord clutched in his little hand held proudly over his head. Big Dog started to cheer him on!
"Way to go Little Dog! Hurray Little Dog"
They had vanquished their oppressor.
I finally managed to free the cord and finish the floors, but man it sure was hard to rain on their tiny victory parade.