I know someone who is scared of the hoover, and contrary to the state of my living room floor, it’s not me!
Emily hates the hoover. Not sure if it’s the noise, or that it’s bigger than her (name me something that isn’t bigger than her) but she is terrified of it. Infact, it’s probably not fair to say that she “HATES” the hoover. There is no sense of anger towards it, or a strong dislike of me using it, she is just terrified when I turn it on.
Last night, I got home from work and decided to hoover the living room as Mummy and Emily had been out all day and due to Emily’s new found desire to be awake during the night (See yesterday’s post for details) Mummy was serious flagging!
I did my usual, incoherent, unorganised ramble of a tidy (drives Mrs R bonkers) and eventually the room was clear of toys, mess, papers and the odd bit of fluff the dog had torn off something (probably best not to ask!)
It was time for the hoover!
Dum, dum, duuuuummmm!!!!
Ooooookkkkkk- aside from my flare for the dramatic, there is nothing too exciting about using the hoover is there? (Trust me, I am the one who used it, it doesn’t compare to Netflix and a cream bun!) But as I cast a glance at my unsuspecting victim, I mean Child, I couldn’t help but wonder how she would react. I mean, I hadn’t used the hoover for a while (again- shhhhh) but last time I remember using it, she cried.
I position the hoover appropriately (on the floor, not the hilarious game of taking the end off and sucking someones cheek) and pressed the button.
I got about my hoovering as if nothing was unusual, swishing and swaying in an unorganised fashion (yep, there is a theme, you should see me mow the lawn) along our living room floor between Emily and Mummy. Emily was standing still, eyes locked on the hoover, and slowly, shuffling positioned herself towards safety. HER MUMMY!
Because of my unorganised and somewhat scattershot approach to hoovering (and life in general) it wouldn’t have been clear to Emily where the safe passage was. This loud swishing, floor cleaning device seems to fly around at all angles.
Her faced twisted and contorted into a shape I knew all too well.
And then the tears came.
Emily had a genuine fear of this harmless, rarely used cleaning device. The hoover wouldn’t hurt her and her daddy was using the hoover and he definitely wouldn’t hurt her.
It made me realise just how small her little world is at 1 year old and how big the bad world out there is. More than ever I realise that my job is to protect this little lady and watch her develop physically as well as emotionally.
What a scary scary honour that is.
And if I can use this as an excuse not to get the hoover out again… I will