Housekeeping

I spend a lot of time on a computer, “working”. You can also call it editing, tinkering, writing, surfing, or procrastinating. In his best crotchety Archie Bunker impression, my husband often calls from another room,  “Are you on that computer again?” I try to make it look like my time spent on the computer is vitally important to our existence even if Facebook is always running in the background.  My technological other half seems to have become so indispensable, that chores like cleaning, cooking and laundry often pale in importance.  There must be someone out there who will save the day when the dust bunnies grow larger than the Easter bunny. Who will be my anti-bacterial, elbow greased-superhero? While editing today, I heard a knock on the office door. From the other side, my husband pops his head in and cheerfully sings, “housekeeping”.  Dressed in his running clothes and armed with a shop-vac, I couldn't help but laugh at this vision. He does it all, even without the red cape (yet he still wears the tights). He has a crazy demanding job, he covers more terrain powered by his body than most cars do, and he CLEANS!  So let me raise this bottle of Windex and toast to the one guy who can really do it all.  Thank you Mr. Clean! PS.. After you have saved the day in this house,   I hear the floors of the  Justice League could use some cleaning.