A Man and His Hoover

I've been thinking about my Dad a lot lately. Probably because Father's Day has passed, and Dad's birthday falls in mid-August. It always seems that summer daydreams tend to lead towards him one way or another, you know? I've written about him before (you probably think you know him quite well), but believe me ... I have even more stories to share about dear old Dad. My oldest brother likes to read when I write about our father. My brother is 10 years older than me, and he has told me that he doesn't remember all of the things about Dad that I do. So, this one is for you - brother.

Another reason I find myself drifting to thoughts of Dad during the summer is because Dad really enjoyed the summer. This man had the kind of skin that would tan simply by walking to and from the mailbox. I think I take after him in the tanning department. My parents home had a long drive-way that went from the street, up past the house and led to the backyard where their garage was. You could often find Dad sitting in a lawn chair right at the end of the drive-way, just looking down at the path before him. It was almost as if he sat there waiting for . . . something . . . or someone . . . to pull up. I was always amused at how he would sit there - because in the backyard not very far from where he would sit, was a lovely screen house and patio. But he rarely sat in it. You would always pull up and find him at the end of the driveway.

You know, I'm not usually a girl of "wishes." But I have to tell you . . . if a genie with a bottle suddenly appeared before me, I know exactly what my 3 wishes would be. 1) That my daughters would live long, happy, and healthy lives, 2) That I could have 1 more afternoon to play Yahtzee with my Grandma and 3) That I could drive up that drive-way and find my Dad sitting there one more time. Yep, those would be my 3 wishes. Silly, huh?

Anyway, back to thoughts of my Dad.

Another moment when I found myself thinking about my Dad was on the 4th of July. No, not because of the patriotism that is associated with it (although Dad was a very patriotic American and always flew his flag proudly). But I thought of him shortly after the evening fell, when I glanced down onto my family room floor and saw a number of crumbs on the carpet. You see, I had a house full of people . . . those crumbs would have to wait. However, if I were my father, I would have thought NOTHING about pulling out the Hoover and vacuuming. I think I mentioned it somewhere here before that my Dad was really Felix from the Odd couple - that if a spoon was left in the sink, Dad would find who put it there and remind you that you could have washed it and put it away. He also HATED to find garbage in the garbage can (I KNOW! I mean - imagine that one!) Anyway, you know how they say that mans best friend is his dog? Well, not to my Dad. My Dad's best friend was his vacuum. Seriously. And he would think nothing about pulling the ol'Hoover out right in the middle of a party and start vacumming under peoples feet. It's not that he wanted people to leave - he just couldn't relax until things were in order, so if that meant vacuuming while the guests were still over - well, so be it. It got to be quite fun when Dad would pull out the vacuum (our family started to look forward to it as the years went on. We would all eagerly lift our feet to welcome the cleaning ... and loved to point out areas of crumb here or there for Dad to go after.)

Although, being a teenager and having to live with this "Felix" wasn't always fun. I remember Dad and I had our routine when it came to cleaning the house - as Dad was home from work right around the time that I would be home from school. My parents had a split level house - and every day I would dust and vacuum the upstairs while Dad would dust and vacuum the downstairs. We would meet on the middle floor to finish up living room, dining room and kitchen together. There would be some days when I just didn't want to do my chores . . . when sitting on my parents bed watching General Hospital was more my priority. I remember thinking, "I'll get him. . . I'll let him think that I am vacuuming . . . but I won't really do it! Ha! That will show him!!!" and I would literally take the vacuum and run it up and down the carpet just so the vacuum lines would appear. You know . . . I haven't always been the brightest child. I mean - seriously . . . did you get what I was doing? I was doing the work of actually moving the vacuum back and forth all over all of the carpets - but I wouldn't TURN IT ON, as if to somehow make a statement about having to do chores. Seriously . . . I was doing the work - but not. Of course, the thought of him not hearing the vacuum go on never even crossed my mind on those days. I thought I had pulled a fast one! Anyway, I'm pretty sure my Dad probably knew exactly what I was doing, as he would usually follow behind me to "re-vacuum" on those days when I didn't. Ah, well. I was about 14 or 15 during those days . . .  I had to rebel somehow.

I'm re-thinking my three wishes right now. Not the one for lifelong happiness and health for the girls, not the one about playing Yahtzee with Grandma, but the one about Dad. Maybe my third wish could include re-living one of those parties when Dad pulled out the Hoover and vacuumed up under our feet. Yes, I would definitely have to include that in my wishes - for I would give anything to laugh like we did when Dad would do that.

How about you? Can you think of 3 wishes you'd ask for if a genie suddenly appeared? I'd love to know . . .