Saturday, December 11, 2004

Hairballs in the hose.

After working all day, my beautiful daughter somehow found the energy to drive down here, gather all her forgotten Thanksgiving-visit articles and my vaccuum cleaner, and put them plus me into her, um, "interesting" car and drive back up to her apartment.

She needed to borrow my vaccuum cleaner because hers was stuffed so full of cat hair, it was no longer a functioning appliance.

(Is a sweeper an appliance? And if not, what is it?)

(Why is a dental retainer called an appliance? Is it really in the same category as a refrigerator or a microwave oven? )

(If a dental retainer is called an appliance because it is a thing that is applied to another thing, then why is the refrigerator also an appliance?)

(This is as philosophical as I get at one in the morning. Sorry.)

We spent a lovely introspective mother-daughter hour cleaning a full inch of cat hair off her carpets. Oh, I cherish those moments when, while working towards a common goal, she and I exchange views and discuss plans, and I pry into her personal life and she has to remain civil because it's my sweeper after all and she needs me to poke the hair out of her own sweeper's hose because the very thought of touching a giant clogging hairball makes her gag reflex kick in. . . .

Whereas she knows I have actually been heard to say to a toddler, "Roll over and puke on Mommy, honey; I just changed these sheets!"

And her gratitude when I finally got that huge hairball out of her own sweeper's hose. No words could ever describe it. Fortunately.

Then we drove to the mall and I bought her a Christmas present because I love her.

And then we went to Hot Topic and she bought me a bumper sticker about the cowbell because she loves me.

Cowbell. That has to be the funniest SNL sketch ever.

I made a banner. Watch BE's skyline.

She was so tired tonight that I was worried about her. She works two jobs most days; tonight she wasn't scheduled for the second job so she had a little break. We used it up, plowing the carpet for cat hair. My poor little girl.

Then we met HubDad at Chili's for some dinner. The kitchen forgot my french fries but it turned out all right. Two different waiters apologized, and brought two separate platters of fries to our table. Want some fries? We have enough to sink a ship, if you're hungry.

Daughter was noticeably drooping and heavy-eyed. Bless her sweet heart, she works so hard. She was due some intensive rest.

I advised her to go back to her apartment and take a nice long warm shower. I advised her to go right to bed. I advised her to get a lot of sleep, because tomorrow she works almost twelve hours straight. I advised her to have a glass of milk before she got into bed.

It's after one in the morning, and she didn't take my advice. As I speak and you read, she's at the Hairbanger's Ball with a friend.

Oh, to be young again. I'd love to have just a fraction of that energy.

Any more than a fraction and I'd probably have a stroke.
Posted by Mamacita (The REAL one) @ 1:58 AM | |


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