I never realized how much I would come to appreciate a good vacuum cleaner.
Almost every day I vacuum. I vacuum our rug in the living room and I vacuum our kitchen. I don’t like to clean. I really don’t. Some people enjoy making a place sparkle. Me? Not so much.
But everyday there are crumbs. Little pieces of food end up everywhere. Everywhere.
Even when Alex isn’t actively throwing his food from his highchair or smooshing crackers with his foot into the floor, there are still crumbs. Crumbs, crumbs, crumbs.
People always say that little kids are snot-machines. I disagree. Little kids are crumb machines. I don’t know where the crumbs come from. There are times when I do, like when I let Alex eat crackers in the living room. Obviously that is going to be a mess. Obviously when Alex eats crackers in the living room there are going to be crumbs everywhere.
But then, somehow, the crumbs end up in the kitchen, too. And in the dining room. And on the stairs leading upstairs.
And then, after I vacuum, there are more crumbs. Even when there is no food around, when meals are long done and the only food is in its appropriate place in the kitchen, little bits appear around the house. Where they come from? Nobody knows.
Little kids are crumb machines. They walk around producing crumbs.