Tonight I came home from work after a long day of nose-to-the-grindstone technical writing at the office — which was largely emptied of co-workers on this here gorgeous Friday in late August — and found Mr. Pinault in the living room, plugging in the vacuum cleaner.
Hot dog! This made my day. Contrary to my previous beliefs, my husband does know where I keep the vacuum, and he is capable of lifting it and even plugging it in.
Even better, he really was listening yesterday when I talked about how I had to clean the house in anticipation of visitors this weekend, because he evidently decided to pitch in by vacuuming!
I threw down my laptop and went to embrace him — quickly, as to not disrupt any housework momentum. That’s when I saw his hard drive box, sitting on the coffee table with the casing removed. That’s when it dawned on me that Mr. Pinault was not vacuuming the house, he was vacuuming his computer. Really, what was I expecting?
(Ay, I can’t really complain. I knew I was marrying a nerd. What’s more, I knew I was marrying a man.)
