CRUMBS! Has anyone seen my mind?

My 3 little boys don't sweat salty water, they sweat cheerios. I know it because I swear I don't even BUY bloody cheerios anymore but still, every morning I find a veritable assault course of cheerios strewn across my floor. H is onestep ahead, you won't see H with feet at floor level without at least 2 coverings on them, socks and either slippers or, if venturing into kitchen or bathroom, shoes, laced very tightly thankyou very much.
We have a Kirby vacuum AND a filter queen, we are super vacuum snobs....we need extraordinary support in the suction of crumbs department in this house. I am one of those people who feel suffocated with socks and shoes, if I am inside my feet must be naked, even in the depths of winter, bare feet, naked soles, nothing on them......except crunched up hula hoops and cheerios.
Not only do we have the Kirby and the filter queen but by golly we use them. Unlike many of H's former customers, who having paid an arm and a leg for this outstanding piece of technology, then stand it in a corner and expect it to actually get up and clean the sodding carpets then! When it was discovered that they were expected to actually push the said machine it all became too much and they forgot they ever bought it. We're not afraid to use them to within an inch of their very guaranteed lives. I am a canister girl and H is a former Kirby salesman, he all but dons a shirt and tie and a determination to take at least 6 hours of a person's precious time to use that thing.
So what? We still look as though we live in the aftermath of a cereal factory explosion.
This is where the request as to the whereabouts of my brian comes in. ( I actually noticed that says 'Brian' but left it as it rather touchingly supports the fact that I probably have a Brian in my head instead of a brain, with the exception of my brother in law, who is unfortunately called Brian, the name always seems to conjure up a rather slow and colourless individual with a remarkable inability to ever actually do anything, so yes, we'll leave it as a brian not a brain.)
Well, I know that I am 43 and that it is a few years since my 3 big kids were little kids but I swear I don't remember them being such crap magnets. I was bordering on obsessive with the housework and will admit that the chances are I was waiting with a vacuum in hand should a crumb fall and may have actually made the kids eat in the garden to avoid a mess but surely to Betsy I'd remember if they had been like these 3 little crudballs?
Where does all this mess come from? I ask you, how can one 2 year old with a small handful of cereal spread it through 3 rooms .. especially when he's strapped in to a highchair?
I've truly made a concerted effort to not swear, Seth has an uncanny talent at remembering every single unacceptable word uttered and then saying it...right at the time when it will get the ultimate reaction...picture this tiny little nerdy bloke in his specs and sweet little face under his curly hair asking grandma what a bastarding arsehole might be......he hasn't, but I was almost certain that if I didn't stop swearing everytime I got banana in between my toes or the smallest piece of lego stuck in the softest part of my underfoot it wouldn't be too long before he would. So, oh flipperty gibbet matey. Gosh darn it and send it to heck, time to watch my mouth and clean up the act.

IT IS SO HARD!!!!!

The thing about the kirby is that it makes you sweat, it is a great invention but as well as being hideously unattractive, it is hard work and as much as it sucks the dust mites out and is merciless in trapping them in it's inner bowel, and as expensive and renowned as they are, let me tell you now they are no match for a cheerio....that blasted machine can't suck up a cheerio to save it from the local tip...it blows the damn things from one end of the room to the other and just as you think you've got it, that piece of mind bending irritability shoots out an extra guff of air and the cheerio hurtles under the couch. Great. Now not only do I have to vacuum and sweat I have to bend and grunt as well, lift that couch and get that cheerio if my life depends on it. If I have to grow old and die before I give in, so be it, but that cheerio is not staying on the floor to come and get me when I least expect it, it's going......so not one to be outdone I find myself with close to $2.000 ( or is it $3.000?! Who knows, absurd however much it is) worth of vacuum in the one room, 2 big guns we are assured will cater to our every need, all to capture a teeny circle of oat or corn....and what happens? The only thing that gets that sucker is my 99p dustpan and brush!
So, now not only do I have to try and not swear when I tread on the 73rd crunchy or painful piece of kid sweat, I also have to try and not swear at inanimate objects ( I am repeatedly told that a vacuum cannot be stupid as it has no brain, well for what these cost they flippin well should have one and anyway, neither have I, I've got a brian and it makes me swear and call not alive things stupid, argue with that one.) I would actually quite like to see me when I vacuum....it is amusing I know it.
"Come ON! Suck it up you stupid damn useless metal piece of crud..it's a CHEERIO! Grab the bloody thing and get it over with...I've got a life you know, I don't want to spend the better part of it chasing a ring of cereal SUCK THE BUGGER UP!"
I'd get a dog and be done with it but then I would have to pick up dog pooh and I really really can't do that, I can't, so don't ask me to.
Tomorrow I could well bore you with the state of the bath when the crap magnets get out every night but I won't, because that tale is just too scary.