Kill the Dust Mites NOW

Yesterday the allergist told us that W is allergic to dust mites. Well - she said - not the mites, but their poop. And they poop 20 times a day. And there are something like a trillion of them in one square foot of carpet. We have carpet. So that's like 20 trillion pieces of shit per square foot of carpet in my son's room, that he is allergic to. Oh and you can inhale the stuff too, from your mattress, pillow or comforter. OH, and also, I HATE TO CLEAN.

"You have to go home and do dust mite education," the allergist told me, "because your son is not able to breathe through his nose and mouth breathers have underdeveloped jaws and you will spend thousands and thousands of dollars on jaw reconstruction and your son will look like a big-headed small-jawed freak unless you kill all the dust mites NOW."

My poor kid was in the room. "Is that bad?" he squeaked.

"No no honey," I whispered, "the doctor is just trying to scare Mommy into cleaning. It's a tough love technique Daddy suggested to her."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Shhhh."

Okay, so now I've got to spend approximately all Spring obsessing and cleaning and spending my grocery money on $350 of dust mite avoidance encasings. (And if you ask me, his ballooned-up red skinned reaction to the test wasn't even that bad). Things could be a whole hell of a lot worse. But they could also be better. As I mentioned, I HATE to clean.