Our living room contains a large red ottoman.  I would say it is four to five feet of pure footrest intimidation.  Usually it sits between the couch and two chairs and is shifted about depending upon who would like to lift their feet.  This usually provides great comfort, but when you vacuum the living room, it is a grizzly bear to move about.

Today, I thought I discovered a new strategy.  While moving the ottoman to vacuum, I discovered that it would be more easily set on one end to move about.  Now towering, I moved the footrest off to the side.  Well, towering may convey too much of a sense of stability.  It was certainly exhibiting some teetering tendencies.  Proud of my new vacuuming arrangement, I surveyed the couch, which would need the pillows and blankets (Yes, blankets on the couch.  Minnesota is cold.) moved to vacuum up the dog hair.  [Time to insert the really bad idea.  What?  The ottoman set on its end was not bad enough?  No, here it comes.]  Seeing that the top of the ottoman teetering on its end was available for storage, I set the four pillows and blanket up high.  This caused additional teetering, but soon the ottoman/pillow/blanket tower stabilized and the two potted plants in the fall zone breathed a sigh of relief.

Thinking that the situation was under control, I began vacuuming the dog hair off the couch.  Kirby the Beagle, who already has an uneasy relationship with the vacuum, must have taken offense to the cleaning of the couch.  [Insert second really bad idea.]  What I can only guess was displeasure became apparent, when our pup decided to fling himself at the side of the ottoman tower.  Did he want to reach a pillow to rest?  Was he trying to take out one of the potted plants or one of my kids sitting in a chair ignoring the domestic labor drama unfolding only a few feet away?  Was Kirby simply seeing if he could jump as high as the ottoman tower, which was now fully swaying?  We will never know, because (a) Kirby cannot talk and (b) my flailing hand motions, in an equal effort to push the dog away and at the same time grab the ottoman high rise, made our beagle decide to pursue less exciting endeavors.

[Bad idea number three.  Why not insert another?]  Considering that the crisis had passed, the ottoman had been stabilized, and the potted plants on the floor had updated their life insurance policies, I decided to leave the ottoman standing on end and finish vacuuming.  There my friends is proof of a kind and loving God.  One that allowed me to finish up my cleaning without an ottoman unnaturally placed on end crashing to the ground.  Bad ideas, but a peaceful outcome.  As they say in the Turkish Republic, rest well, but never in a teetering ottoman’s fall zone.  Words to live and vacuum by.