"Hey? Can you help me?"
This is a question that could precede nearly anything in my house. Clean the cat litter. Take out the trash. Carry a 5 gallon bucket of soap oil somewhere. Unload the car. Just...anything.
And as my children do, they say yes. It's really the only answer. The question, merely a formality.
"Just a sec," said Will and I scampered off to the laundry room. What I needed was to move the dryer because the vent had come unmoored from its housing. But while I was waiting, I realized it had come out of the ceiling vent, not the back of the dryer.
Forgetting completely about Will on his way, I climbed on top and--
"...help scaling the dryer?" his wry comment the only warning I had that the cavalry had arrived. Will is not a loud human. Neither would I call him stealth--but while Maggie had run up the stairs a minute earlier with so much force that I thought for a second we were being robbed--Will, enters a room soundlessly. Something about his energy just doesn't unsettle the air around him and announce his presence until he's damn good and ready to do it himself.
"No," then I laughed, "well, yes...the vent has come out of this spot in the ceil--" and just when I turned to look at him...something from the ceiling nestled in my ponytail and I screamed. Yelled! Yelled some more. "AHHH!!!" Tearing out my ponytail holder, I freed myself-- "AHHHH!!!!"-- then flipped my hair over ---"AHHHH!!! It's! WHAT IS IT??!?! IT'S IN MY HAIR!!" It's---"
"--a cord," finished Will, standing there with no visible signs of concern. "An old cable cord."
"WITH DUST ON IT?!?!" I mean, have you SEEN pictures of dust mites?!
He laughed, and I want to say he helped my down from the dryer, but really, the trauma was all too much and these are moments of my life I will never get back.
Later, he was pouring the fresh cat litter and I came into the room with the duct tape I needed to reattach the vent.
"I'm scaling the dryer again," I announced very bravely.
"I hope the cord doesn't win again..." he said and I looked at him sideways.
"I was attacked," I laughed from on top of the dryer. "When I tell this story I will say I was attacked."
Hey...it's true enough.