IT’S A WHIRLWIND!

The distant background noise intruded with my dreaming, turning a pleasant dream event into a shocking awakening! The bedroom door was closed, but the shade was up, and what sounded like a tornado was in question. The sun was shining, there was no immediate danger of a storm, and so what could the noise be? Was the foundation to my house coming undone? Was there some horrible disaster at the local airport, or a gas main explosion? Had the terrorist struck Holbrook, Long Island?

Rolling over to the side of the bed, I dropped both feet onto the rug and listened. The hour on the digital clock read 6:32 am! TLW (The Little Woman) was nowhere in sight. Slowly I walked to the bedroom door and opened it. Looking about, I noticed the downstairs lights were all on. Then I saw it! TLW was cleaning! God! 6:32 am and she’s cleaning the garage, no less!

One cannot actual see TLW when in the state of cleaning, what one sees is a small tornado shape in a robe, as it runs over territory a few inches over the ground. Unlike a tornado, instead of devastation, there lies neatness and garbage in big black plastic bags! The hunt for order and neatness in TLW’s life was now in progress! Soon the weather channel would be reporting seeing her in the basement, as she lays neatness over all #1 and #2 Sons memorabilia. Then the storm would make an abrupt right turn and overrun my stuff.

Overcome by the ferocity of gale force winds, I retreated into the bedroom, and slid under the bed to wait out the storm. After a half hour, my coffee fix and kidneys were starting to make a statement. I crawled out from under the bed, and sucking it in, headed down the stairs. Step by step I went, down into the jaws of TLW’s tornado. Not knowing what the day would bring, I got my coffee and picked up a newspaper and leaned back in my easy chair. Ah! Made it!

“JOE!”
“Darn, Yes dear?”
“Would you comer over here and give me a hand?”

As I rise from my comfortable position, the stupid dog wants to go out! Holding my coffee, I let the dog out, run to the treat jar, and poke my nose into the basement where hurricane TLW is now located, and ask: “What?”

Would you take all the stuff I piled on the steps and put it in the hall?”
“If I don’t?”
“Then I won’t be able to get up the stairs!”
I consider that for a brief happy moment.

I run to the back door to let me stupid dog back in, toss her a treat, spill my coffee on my chest, and start evacuating TLW.

The process takes forever, since she was allowed to clean by herself, she has cleaned up our lives, once again!

My advice to all husbands: If you hear a noise in bed, put the pillow over your ears and stay there until the season changes.