The German has taken the words of Grandpa to heart, and is helping me around the house some more. Actually, I think he is more afraid that he will starve and die in a dirty house if everything is left to me. If it were up to me, we would have had frozen pizza every day last week. The German has always helped around the house, but now he does it without my asking and/or nagging. Mostly he cooks, vacuums, and washes dishes. The laundry remains my cross to bear.
So, tonight the German decided to do a bit of vacuuming. He hauled out our pre-historic machine and fired her up. A few minutes into the task, he stopped and sniffed. Then he turned to me.
Him: "What is that smell??" (sniff, sniff) "I think it is coming from the vacuum cleaner."
Me: "Oh, yeah, it is cinnamon."
Him: "Why does the vacuum cleaner smell like cinnamon?"
Me: "When I was baking cookies about two weeks ago, I knocked over the bottle of cinnamon and it broke."
Him: "And you vacuumed it?? Why didn't you use the broom and then mop?"
Me: "The vacuum cleaner was faster."
Him: "Yes, but now it smells like cinnamon when you use it!"
Me: "Well, think of it this way. At least now you will always think of Christmas when you vacuum. And you like Christmas. And you will vacuum more often." (sweet, innocent smile)
Him: (In dry, sarcasm) "Yeah . . . I don't think so."