Dust Bunny Nightmares

We hired our first cleaning service to do a one-time cleaning of the main living areas in our home prior to a party. Our house was not dirty but we belong to the throng of people who both work and believe that dust bunnies deserve a place in the world just as much as people do. Besides the last thing, we want to do on the weekend is clean.

I purchased the 4 hours of service through a Groupon deal. The young early 20s woman worked swiftly and diligently. As the vacuum cleaner whirled I envisioned the wicked witch of the east screaming I’m being sucked away. Sorrow filled my heart. I wondered where do dead dust bunnies go? Is there an afterlife? Is there a heaven with an angel dust bunny looking at a book to see if you have done your job?

Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash

Joe Dustbunny, welcome and join the great horde of fluffiness in the sky for you have been a good and faithful servant! I especially commend you for living for two years behind the china cabinet. Well done good and faithful servant.

As she moved across the plain of our house my wife marveled, “I wonder what she used on the cooktop. It really shines!”. I looked at the bathroom sink and realized we have a countertop. Wow, when did we get that I mused to myself? A loud scream came from the living room, another dust bunny bites the dust.

I was especially interested in the tools that she was using. A dust cloth, a mop, spray dusting formula, powdered kitchen cleaner, cleaning cloths, mop, a caddy to carry everything, and the same brand vacuum cleaner that we have except it was the pro version. Hmmm, not much different than what we have I thought.

I was especially intrigued by the vacuum cleaner. The young woman was an orchestra conductor, her arms smoothly and efficiently moving from the floor, removing the vacuum head, and adding the vacuum brush to wipe baseboards and wall-based dust bunnies, and then back to vacuuming the next stretch of carpet. Wow-what a pro. I looked at the clear canister of her vacuum cleaner which vaguely reminded me of the containment unit of Ghostbusters fame. They seem to be crying out, Free Us Kind Sir. We will hide under your bed and never bother you again. I shook my head and headed to the frig for a beer.

Four hours later the carnage was over. Dust bunnies removed. Coffee stains scrubbed out. Floors cleaned. Bathrooms gleaming. Carpets looking fresh after a sucking by a pro vacuum cleaner. Kitchen counter clean and cooktop sparkling. The floors looked fresh and new. Our son stopped by and said, Looks like a damn hotel. My wife just smiled.

For the next forty-eight hours we were afraid to eat, walk, or do anything in the house. I felt like I was appearing in court after receiving a speeding ticket. I know I did wrong but surely I am not the worst offender. Will my house forgive me? Will the dust bunnies return? Will I return to my slovenly ways? Or will I change for the better? Will the house stay clean or will I be coerced by the dark side once again? Only time will tell because the trifecta of holidays are coming, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. My fear is on New Years Eve I will hear from under the bed a chorus of dust bunnies singing:

Should auld dust bunnies be forgot

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgo

And days of auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear

For auld lang syne

We'll talk of dust my bunny dear

For days of auld lang syne