Hop! Hop! Hop!
I thought in honor of Valentine’s Day and love and getting all hot and bothered we’d discuss what’s hot. Now remember, this isn’t an X-rated blog so let’s try to show some restraint. My mom could end up reading this and I don’t want to be so embarrassed I can’t go home for Easter.
So, let me start us off in the right direction. Workmen are hot. And that goes for husbands and boyfriends working around the house. But don’t you think it’s hysterical that men don’t believe that when they do things around the house, it’s a turn on? It’s as if they honestly can’t believe that something so simple could really be the answer to all their prayers. Let’s face it, if you’re happy, there’s a much greater chance that he’s going to be happy. And, if you’re not happy, he can bet his life he won’t be either.
Yet, he just can’t accept the fact that doing something as simple as putting the cover plates on the electrical sockets could possibly have the type of impact as buying jewelry. Or that watching him do yard work is like watching a Latin gardener. (At least it is in my house, which is just another reason to love the summer months.)
I hurt my back on New Year’s Day, vacuuming like a lunatic. I’m sure you vacuum in pretty much the same way I do- with complete determination to capture every last dog hair, crumb, or dust bunny in the fastest way possible. When I vacuum, I vacuum the entire house, top to bottom and I use the attachments to get in the nooks and crannies and everywhere else the vacuum won’t fit. I don’t want to spend the whole day on this God-awful task so I plow through like a gladiator heading to war. That damn vacuum is easily has heavy as a gladiator’s shield, thus, I hurt my back.
As much pain as I was in for over three weeks I still enjoyed the fruits of my labor, I mean the solution my husband developed. He now vacuums.
You can be sure that his vacuuming makes me smile. He doesn’t use the attachments and doesn’t do the stairs and doesn’t get behind the fridge or under the cabinets, but he looks damn good vacuuming and I don’t have to push the vacuum.
He could wear ratty gym clothes or a striped prison uniform to get this task done, and I’d be pleased. Typically, I consider the sound of the vacuum to be the most irritating sound on the planet. But now when I hear it rev to life, a grin like no other plasters on my face and I have to remind myself not to run into the other room to watch. Instead, I wait for him to come to me.
Fully-clothed and pushing that vacuum. Shirtless, pushing that vacuum. Maybe, naked, pushing that vacuum. Doesn’t matter to me. The key to this is “pushing that vacuum.”
Okay, maybe it’s not just the “pushing that vacuum” part. I’ll admit – I like to watch him doing pretty much anything. But damn, pushing that vacuum is awfully hot!
What about you? What do you think is hot?
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