Only Patch

My Dad, Patch, is a petty ‘cool dude.’ His words, not mine.

He came over bright and early to watch the boys while I went to a Parent Teacher Conference today.  
He brought doughnuts for the boys.  He brought the vacuum for me. 

Sidenote: we can’t keep a vacuum cleaner alive in this house.   We went through two in one month.  I didn’t ask him to bring it. He thought I needed it.

By the time I got home from the conference,  my Dad had vacuumed all the rooms that needed it.  He even cleaned the cat box.  And washed it.  He told me three times that he washed it.

We all went to drop off the youngest at preschool and then came back home.

That’s when my Dad went a tiny little bit crazy.

He took the vacuum to my garage.


I’m not sure my Mom would like the thought that the house vacuum cleaner was used for my garage.

My house is not that much of a mess.  I actually mopped the hardwood floors yesterday.   Its just when Patch has a bee in his cap you just step out of the way and let him do whatever he needs to do.

I love him. He drives me crazy sometimes.  But I love him.

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