I want a DustBuster. Very. Badly.
Jethro will not let me have one.
Before anyone starts hollering about partnership, Jethro and I have an unspoken agreement about bossing each other around when it comes to our personal quirks. Occasionally, Jethro needs a kick in the butt when it comes to motivation and keeping positive. (He’s my widdle Eyeore with sexy arms.) I, on the other hand, need to be reined in when it comes to my whims. Sometimes I get a bit….*ahem* overzealous when it comes to my brilliant ideas and why we need to buy something RAIGHT NA-OW. In the course of our marriage, if I had my my way, we would own a serger, two African dwarf frogs, a Prius, a Gazelle, one of each product in the Cricut line and every single puppy I’ve ever seen. It works for us.
And he’s not wrong. I used to ask for things when I was little and my mom would say, “Do you need it, or do you want it?” And, of course, I’d reply, “I NEEEEEEEEED IT.” I’m still a little like that. It can be annoying. But it’s fine. I have big boobs and make killer brownies, also. Things balance out.
HOWEVER, this is not one of those cases. I not only want it, I NEED a DustBuster. And I need your help, my moppets.
Growing up, I was spoiled in the vacuum-arena. My parents (probably my dad) got suckered into buying a Kirby which, in the mid-80’s, was FANCY. I think. It was expensive at least. And it was also sold door-to-door, so it was the Avon of vacuum cleaners. It also was bulky and a pain in the a** to clean, but it was a BEAST. At least to my tiny ears. And I think it might still be running…and if it isn’t, I can guaran-damn-tee that thing is still sittin’ in my parents’ garage. (15 more years with that man and my mother and I get to be on Hoarders. I’m already practicing my “I didn’t know it was this bad!!!” face.)
I should point out that I didn’t use said Kirby very much. My parents would make me vacuum my room, but I’d mostly just move it back and forth in one spot while I read a book. (WHAT? They never checked to see if actually cleaned, they just wanted me to stop talking for a little while.) But I think it is because of this highfalutin’ vacuum cleaner that I have been spoiled for all vacuums EVER.
Which leads me to this.
These are the vacuums I would like. The Dyson DC25 and the Miele Leo.
The Leo because I’m a Leo also, which doesn’t mean anything but I was an child in the 80’s and habits like giving a sh*t about astrology are hard to break. And it’s yellow and makes me happy. Can’t you just see little bluebirds flying around that baby while you sing a song and vacuum up glitter and sunshine?
And the Dyson because they have good marketing and a pivot ball and bagless canisters seem to mean something when they are talked about by a velvet-throated British guy.
BUT, I do not own either of these. Because they cost a butt-ton and we only have about 30 square feet of carpet in our entire house as it is mostly hardwood floors. Floors that can be cleaned with a boring broom and dustpan. Or a Swiffer, if you want to get fancy.
In lieu of the sexy vacuum of my dreams, I decided that I could have something almost as good. I could have a DUSTBUSTER. Think about it! The baseboards could be cleaned in a snap! My crafting mishaps could be erased with no muss or fuss! When Jethro grooms Maggie, we’d finally be able to get the teeny bits of fluff that always seem to be left behind. I’d get so good at cleaning at I might even dust more often! I’d finally organize the bookshelf! The recycling would be taken out every week! We’d finally act like real grown folks! IT’D BE LIFE CHANGING.
Jethro, in his typical joy-killing fashion, says no. That we don’t need one. That it will languish in the closet, unused and unwanted, once the shine wears off. That I will find some other life-changing toy to hold my interest and the dust bunnies will continue to multiply.
He has a point.
However, the damn things are less than fifty bucks and even if it results in a week of massive cleaning, followed by intermittent spurts once a month when I find the damn thing again, I think that’s still a win.
This is where y’all come in. Who has a fancy DustBuster? Tell me how it’s changed your life and made you a better person. Remind me why I should just buy the damn thing and when Jethro complains, put my foot down and say, “NO, my love. This will NOT stand. The DustBuster STAYS.” Tell me of your own tales of struggle against the oppressive will of your partner. LET’S UNITE!
Also tell me which one to buy, because right now the pretty purple ones are winning over the boring yellow ones.
***EDIT*** I should add that we do have a vacuum cleaner, just a boring one that came with Jethro and was probably bought by his mother for his first apartment. It is not yellow, nor shiny.