Monday, August 12, 2013

I Am Not Afraid of the Vacuum Cleaner

Well, I'm not. My father, however, is convinced that I am. He does have reasons for thinking so, but those reasons are wrong.

Dad's reason #1: I close my door when he starts vacuuming.
My reason #1: I am almost always at my computer, listening to my music. I close the door so that I can still hear my music.

Dad's reason #2: I leave the vicinity when he starts vacuuming.
My reason #2: It honestly depends on what I'm doing. Usually I'm already in my room, but if I'm in the area being vacuumed and don't need to hear much at the time or recall an urgent errand, I actually stay put and curl up on the furniture to keep out of the way. Sometimes I think my father might have selective memory.

Dad's reason #3: I would run upstairs when he started vacuuming when I was little.
My reason #3: Know what? I was genuinely afraid of the vacuum cleaner when I was little, but I'm not now. I have come to a more reasonable understanding of the world after several years.

Why I was afraid of the vacuum when I was little:
1. It was loud.
2. The cats were afraid of it; presumably, they had good cause to be.
3. It ate things, toys, beads, and I'd even seen it try to eat my sister's hair.
4. I was told repeatedly not to go near the lawn mower when it was on. It would cut off my toes. The vacuum cleaner is basically a lawn mower for the inside. I was being smart and safe by running away.

If I had seen very many AI films at that age, I probably would have had vacuum nightmares too.