Attempted Humor

Losing My Hair Over Hair, Everywhere

IMG_5227 I wrote before about issues with excess hair โ€“ creating drain rats, breaking my vacuum. Although Iโ€™ve traded in The Wives (nickname for my old roommates) for a genuine wife, the recent acquisition of pets has led to an escalated state of loose hair in the house.

Amanda alone sheds a lot of hair. I encounter the occasional drain hat and hair in the sink. She grows it back, so itโ€™s all good.

When we adopted the cat, Fabrizio, I didnโ€™t notice much of a hair accumulation because his hair is so light and short. Iโ€™ll see it stack up like snow drifts at his favorite sleeping spots, but otherwise itโ€™s not a problem.

Gianna is one hairy puppy and inspired this post. I grew up with a Sheltie, Maxamillion, so I knew our new Collie would leave a trace of hair in her wake. I didnโ€™t anticipate the daily carpet she could produce on our hardwood floors.

Sometimes I wish this blog would get a sponsor like GoPro or Canon that would give me cameras and goodies to use and giveaway. No longer the case. Now I want a sponsorship from Swiffer. I use those little Swiffer sheets every damn day to lift the hair โ€“ Amandaโ€™s, Fabrizioโ€™s and Giannaโ€™s. Iโ€™m sure Sergio and I contribute to the mix, but only minority shares. I love Swiffer. I need Swiffer. Sponsor me, Swiffer!

I wonโ€™t even talk about our bedroom, the only room in the house with carpet. I wish I could leave the vacuum on 24/7. The first item on my Christmas list this year is the Roomba, so that I can just leave that on when Iโ€™m away at work. Forty hours a week of vacuuming might take care of all the hair the dog deposits in our room during the same time period. Hell, while Iโ€™m asking, sponsor me, Roomba!

The hair problem led me to decide to install hardwood floors upstairs instead of replacing the carpets. I know I did myself a favor going with hardwoods for a number of reasons, but the only immediate benefit I saw was the ability to Swiffer upstairs and have brief confidence that there is no hair on the floor until animals or wife reenter the room.

Now that I have a beard, I always find hair in it โ€“ not my hair, but the animalsโ€™ or the wifeโ€™s. Itโ€™s an intrusion of my own hair space. Itโ€™s hair on hair violence.

Weโ€™ve all adapted, and the hair is fairly under control, but say Sergio or I โ€“ the resident Italians โ€“ start shedding body hair, weโ€™re screwed.

Wives Shed Like Cats

I have many nicknames for my roommates, Katrine and Moos. Collectively, I call them The Wives. Individually, I call Katrine the "Queen of Ballard," and Moos "The Dark Lord."
Alas, I have new nicknames for Katrine and Moos: "Tabby" and "Himalayan," respectively. You see, The Wives shed like cats. To live with them is to be surrounded by tumbleweeds of hair.

I've grown accustomed to the lifestyle, but the occasional visitor will find the clumps of hair that collect unusual. After Sergio's extended stay in the Ballard Burrow last week, he said he couldn't believe the masses of hair in the bathroom, kitchen and bedrooms. True, we do challenge the average barber shop for most hair on the floor. I actually had to re-tape most of my Christmas presents because hair got under the tape. I really shouldn't have wrapped presents sitting on the family room carpet.

I know, I know. Vacuum frequently, you suggest. Unfortunately, our vacuum recently passed away - strangled to death by a cord of the combined Tabby and Himalayan hair. I'm off to Fred Meyer today to buy a new one. If this one dies, I'm going to the pet store to buy cat brushes.