Early birthday

Facing a house that has received little attention other than the neglect and abuse we've doled out in abundant quantities this week I woke up this morning with the intent to get down to bidness with some serious FlyLadying and whip this house back into shape. Knowing how serious I was to get all the dust and grime out from under our feets, Bubble Boy could no longer sit on the gift he'd purchased for my birthday, which is in two weeks (hint, hint!).

I assume men are clued into a few of the Golden Rules of Marriage by other married men during the hazing process of induction into the Married Men Club. Such as how to answer the inevitable question of "Do these jeans make me look fat?", a gift of a bowling ball with their own name engraved is a big No-No, and never to compare certain attributes of their wives to their mother. Just as we women are schooled in the arts of making our men feel like Real Men by the appropriate use of "Aaah" or "You don't say?", when they tell us all the fascinating things they just read in Wired, Popular Science or slashdot.

Another of the Man Rules is to NEVER buy a gift that plugs in. Back a few years ago, Bubble Boy violated this rule by bringing home a DVR for Christmas. Dramatic tears and a couple days of silent treatment ensued until BB made it up to me twelve-fold by instituting the Twelve Days of Christmas with a new gift every day for twelve days. Turns out the DVR was one of the best gifts I ever received. It changed the way we watched TV and led us down the road of not even having television service (not even the local channels!). Something I sometimes miss but haven't regretted yet.

So today I got The Roomba. It's my new little pet and I will love it, and squeeze it, and pet it and call it Rosie. As we have all watched it with fascination I find myself thinking a fun evening would be to open a bottle of wine and watch the poor thing bump and bounce around the house.

I have to admit to a dark secret here though. It makes me think of the Helen Keller jokes that seemed to be so popular when I was a kid. Remember? What did Helen Keller do when she fell in the well? She screamed her hands off.

I'm not proud of making fun of blind/deaf people, HK in particular, seeing that she was such an inspirational figure. But. I guess I am that kind of person. And so a wine and Roomba party sounds like good times. Proud? Definitely not. Crass and insensitive? I guess. But at least I'll have clean floors.