Where I’m at war

I fight a war every week. I grab my weapons, a determined attitude and engage the enemy. Unfortunately, I seem to be losing the war.

My enemy isn’t smart and it certainly lacks in weapons. So, you might wonder how it is that it’s winning. The answer is sheer numbers. I’m one. They are many. And they multiply with the ferocity of rabbits.

That’s right. I fight a war against dust bunnies.

I clean the floor and I go behind every corner armed with brooms, swiffers and mops of different sizes and potency. However, nothing seems to make a difference. They fly around, swirling with laughter as soon as I approach.

If there were only one or two of them, I could pretend they didn’t exist but the truth is that there seems to be one in every corner, under every chair and behind every door.  They dance gleefully around as soon as someone moves. And I grab a broom, determined to end their joy.

They’re slippery little creatures. Since ours are made mostly of dog hair, they don’t weigh anything, so they’re incredibly hard to keep still on, say, the duster. They immediately fly away. Still, I don’t want them in my home. I’m a bit of a snob that way.

I’ve tried a vacuum cleaner, but the noise terrifies our two ferocious pooches. So, the war against dust bunnies continues with varying degrees of success. I’ll keep chasing these hairy things while my doggies stare at me from their beds silently producing more enemies for me to battle.

 

 

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