It’s 8am. There I am standing face to face with the man I spend the most time with for the third time today. The tall slender bright and bushy man in my life. Meet broom. We spend a lot of time together. More time than the man I married. We dance in the morning, afternoon, and when everyone’s gone to bed. We dream of shiny clean floors and a world where crumbs simply disappear. Ohhh, broom. Sweet broom. Without you I’d be drowning in a sea of cherrios, garlic skins, lettuce pieces, and crunched up goldfish. I’m not sure my husband even knows you exist. I wouldn’t mind if he did. Our relationship is so unique. At 7am when you come out for the first time, I appreciate you. By 10am and our fourth encounter, I resent you. Again? REALLY? Wow. As Taylor Swift would say. You need to calm down. But by 8pm when the house is all quite and clean, I adore you. Thank you broom for doing what the vacuum can’t when children are fast asleep. Thank you broom for saving my feet. Thank you for rescuing me from embarrassment when a surprise guest shows up at the door. You’ve swept me off my feet, you complete me.
