Why Bother Vacuuming
My husband is torn.
He wants a clean house.
But he loves our big puppy.
The chewingest dog in the whole dang town.
He says I guess I should vacuum.
I do not comment.
He is tired of hearing me say “why bother?”
So, I lift my feet
And tolerate the annoying drone
Which drowns out my TV show.
Ten minutes later there is snow in the living room.
At least thirty fluff balls. Buddy has chewed the heck out of something.
Football, pillow, stuffed animal, mattress, something.
My husband comes in and gives a big sigh.
“Why do I bother?” he says.
I turn the volume of my TV show up.
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