Hazel? Is That You?

Disclaimer: My house stays pretty clean most days. I had already taken all the trash out before Charlie arrived and he still found more to bag up. You have to watch Charlie or he will throw something out that isn't trash thinking it was trash. Charlie just feels this extreme compulsion to make my living environs cleaner. Fish gotta swim and birds gotta fly as the old saying goes. Charlie was born to clean. He can clean in 10 minutes what would take me an hour.

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To set the stage, Dad was Mr. B and Charlie was Hazel.

"What do you want to eat?" my father asked and he then went on a tangent and said Charlie was flying down HWY 29 like a madman. He told me he was grabbing the "Oh! Shit!" handle.

"Just get me the number one at Taco Hell," I told my father which consists of a taco supreme and a burrito supreme.

Just enough to fill me up.

I was laying on the computer room bed with Maggie then I heard a car door shut. Maggie bolted off the bed and headed for the front door. Ah, yes, it was the dynamic duo and Maggie was beside herself.

Charlie got to cleaning after our usual pleasantries. He cleaned behind my entertainment center and then washed out my freezer and got it sparkling bright white. Next, came trash disposal and the gathering of the detritus that seems to come and live with me. He also mopped my hall by the bathroom.

Dad was getting very impatient and rolled his eyes at me. He was ready to head home and eat his now cold supper.

"That's it!" Dad said standing up in absolution. "We're headed home. You have cleaned enough. We thank you but I want to go home and eat."

Charlie looked like a kid being torn from a candy store.

"I've got to take out Andrew's trash and then we will go," Charlie told my father with a sneer.

As dad turned to walk back into the den, Charlie stuck his tongue out at my father. I had to choke back a hearty laugh.