Lost in Suburbia: Going down the rabbit hole
As a card-carrying, super-cleaning crusader, I have to admit, the one thing that really gets my mop in a bunch are dust bunnies. Not only are they hard to catch, but like laundry, dishes, and husbands, the minute you get rid of one, another appears. They roll casually along the floor like dirty indoor tumbleweeds, until they gather in a fuzzy nest under the furniture and in the corners of your house, making you look like you got your housekeeping skills from Morticia Addams. I really don’t even get why they are called dust bunnies anyway. Dust bunnies don’t have long ears or cute little tails. They don’t deliver Easter eggs. They don’t say, “What’s up, Doc?” They are just balls of dirt. They should be called Dust Orbs, or Dust Clusters, or in our case, Dirty Floating Clumps of Dog Hair and Dirt.
There is actually one thing that dust bunnies do have in common with their carrot-munching animal counterparts. This is the fact that they reproduce at an alarming rate. Just when you think you have completely rid your house of dust bunnies, a whole new generation of dust bunnies appear. If someone were to invent dust bunny contraception, they could make a fortune.
I think the reason we have so many dust bunnies in our house is because we have mostly hardwood floors and a dog that sheds. Naturally I’ve tried vacuuming the floor AND the dog to try to improve the situation, but to no avail. I also thought about getting new carpeting and a new, hairless dog, but that didn’t sit well with the family. On the subject of dogs, though, my daughter suggested that an additional pet might be a good distraction. Something that lives in a cage. Like a rabbit.
The irony was not lost on me.
I have tried all the usual dust mops and swiffery things that promise to leave no dust bunny scampering about. And they did work ... for about 5 minutes. The problem was we had a veritable dust bunny infestation. It was time to call in the professionals.
“Mom,” I said on the phone. “You have to help me. I’m at the end of my rope. My house is overrun with dust bunnies.”
“Oh, whew,” she exhaled. “I thought it was something serious.”
“This is serious,” I howled. “The dust bunnies are everywhere. Right now, it’s just my house, but if we don’t stop them, they will take over the neighborhood and eventually the world.”
“I think you’re being a little dramatic,” she said.
“OK, maybe not the world. But people are starting to whisper about me. They’re calling me Lady McDust Bunny.”
“Tray, it’s time you understood something,” she said wisely. “There is no beating the dust bunnies. You have to learn to live peacefully with them, side-by-side. You must set a positive example for your children. People and dust bunnies can coexist.”
“But they are getting into my shoes!” I protested.
“Your shoes?!” she gasped.
“Blast the suckers.”
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