Sue clung to my legs, her eyes wide and frightened at the battered Oreck XL standing menacingly close to her. She is terrified of the vacuum cleaner, and of course, the dust buster, too.
Every time I use either of them, I have to hold her and try to maneuver enough to clean using one arm while she tries to crawl up my side whispering repetitively what has now become a very familiar “vacuum prayer” of “it not get me, it not get me.”
“Don’t worry, Sue,” I encouraged, “Mommy will pick you up before I turn it on. I promise I’ll hold you.”
And is that not what God promises for us? I guess if I really wanted to inflict profound psychological damage, I could place the vacuum cleaner in front of her room so she dare not escape from the toddler bed…nah!