When he’s inside looking out, Nobby presses his nose against the family room window. When he’s outside and wants in, he presses his nose against the same window. The lower panes are always smudged with doggie nose prints.
Friday was brilliantly sunny for a change. I suggested to Peter that he might wash that big window. “What do I use, and how do I do it?” he asked.
I set him up with spray cleaner and cloths and suggested he start in the middle section. Next thing I knew he was washing the kitchen window on the side of the house where a step ladder is required. No doggie slobbers on that window. I nudged him to the back of the house.
A few minutes later I noticed he had the yucky old rag I use to wipe spills off the kitchen floor. Bad enough he was using the grungy cloth, but besides that, he was outside and the spray cleaner was inside.
About then a friend walked in and complimented Peter on the sparkly the window beside the table. I laughed. “He hasn’t done that one yet,” I said.
“I have no idea which ones I’ve done,” Peter said. “I’m just trying to do what I’m told.”
An hour later, the designated windows were shining! I don’t know how he did it, and it’s probably better not to ask. At least he does windows!
Header photo: Window, cleaner than it was before!
2016 National Society of Newspaper Columnists’ contest finalist.
Is that sort of like the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence? K
I have windows 😉
Hm, maybe after all the other windows in this house are sparkling…
I don’t think that bouncing from window to window or using the wrong cloth to clean with is relatd to dementia, but rather a special genetic flaw that all men have. For instance…how does ones husband go out to change the oil in your car and end up in the barn pulling nails out of lumber?
You may have something there! 😉