Are we human?

Today was a big day. I vacuumed. Actually, I always vacuum, but today I did the big vacuum. You know, the one where you move furniture, pluck cushions from the couch, and get out all the fancy attachments for cleaning the little crevices.

In the midst of this fun and games I had an epiphany. The catalyst for the epiphany? A dust bunny. Actually, it was several dust bunnies. Given that I vacuum, like, twice a week I am perplexed by the fact that they return with such speed. I decided that a closer examination of the little puff balls was in order. It seems gross to dissect a dust bunny, but I had just returned from school where I had been assisting with the dissection of owl pellets (which by the way was fascinating). Dust bunnies are a step up from owl pellets.

We have no pets (except the stupid rabbit that has taken over the screened porch, and she's not allowed into the house so she doesn't count). So what could be generating these dust bunnies? Prior to my dissection I had been blaming some wonderful chenille throws that the kids like to snuggle up with on the couch. Most of the dust bunnies hang out under the couch so it seems like a strong hypothesis. But now I'm not convinced. Could it be that the dust bunny might really be a hairball? Hmm...

Which leads back to my epiphany. Apparently, my family isn't human. A human would be bald if they shed this much fluff. And we are not bald. The epiphany actually explains quite a bit. It explains why my kids will do anything I ask just to get a treat. Or, why having my back scratched gives me goose bumps. It certainly explains all the energy the puppies kids have. It also explains my fierce urge to protect my children. So I guess that makes us half golden retriever.

Either that or the object in question really is a dust bunny and I just need to change the furnace filters and (gasp) vacuum more often.

I'm going with the golden retriever theory.