I had such an overwhelming response to my post about my wicked, wicked vacuum, I thought I would post a follow up. Thank you to all of you for caring so much about my cleaning woes. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy. It has been many, many years of putting up with this vacuum and it's many ailments. My handy, frugal husband was just a little too handy in fixing the silly thing every time it broke. But I finally found a way to get rid of it.
Friday the kids made terrariums out of 2 liter bottles with the tops cut off. They placed rocks, charcoal, soil, a plant and a generous helping of water (Justine more so than anyone else) inside the bottle and then replaced the top part back on to make it look like an intact 2 liter bottle. Stick with me, this part is important. I said it looked like it was intact. If I said it once, I said it a hundred times, "Pick it up from the bottom, or it will fall apart and spill everything." I hate to say it, but EVERY single child picked theirs up from the top, causing the bottle to come apart, the bottom to drop out, and all of its contents to spill all over everywhere.
Come on people, it's science, but it's not rocket science.
Well lucky for me, Justine was the last one to destroy her science project, and it just happened to be on my carpet... while I was at work... which means Jeff had to clean it up... which means he had to use the wicked, wicked vacuum. Do you see where this is going?
He called me at work and said,
"The vacuum just turned itself off, and it won't come back on."
"Yeah, it does that all the time."
"But I need it now."
"Yeah, that sucks."
Let's just say that the next day, I received my animal Dyson vacuum cleaner as an early Mother's Day present. And I couldn't be happier. And it's purple.
I seriously think Jeff may have been a vacuum cleaner salesman before we met. We got home and he immediately started taking it apart and figuring out all the gadgets. I personally am going to have to enroll in a technical college to figure out what this thing will do. I'm running around trying to get ready for work... late as usual and he's doing a demonstration for me.
He vacuums a spot in the living room, and then comes in to show me how much dirt and dog hair he got out of the carpet. He does this like 7 times, and I begin to chastise myself for being such a hack at housecleaning. I'm wondering if he's going to find our cat Lucy in there somewhere. (She ran away 3 years ago) I finally just came to the conclusion that we are filthy people.
BUT I LOVE MY DYSON!