My vacuum and I have a love/hate relationship, it is my weapon, my black mail tool, and sometimes my enemy. I use it to battle my nemesis....the spider! They don't have a chance with my super sucker, I can reach them up in the corners and across the floor, when they are trying to make a quick getaway. My vacuum also transforms into an important bargaining tool. When the kids refuse to pick up their rooms, all I have to do is wheel out my scary friend and the kids go running to their rooms to save the Polly's and army guys from death. It also works well in getting rid of the cats for an hour or so.
My vacuum does have a little bit of an ego, its power and its quickness, is sometimes more than I can handle. It seems to have a mind of its own, sucking up everything in its path. It once sucked up a fluffy cat toy, I only got a quick look at it before it was disappearing into the long skinny attachment, I freaked out, thinking I was sucking up my cats tail! I accidentally sucked up a sock the other day, it wasn't a little one either, it was a full size, adult sock....what a funny noise it made "thooooooouuup", I was pretty impressed with my vacuum's suction to tell you the truth. Then came the dreaded task of fishing it out of the dust canister, not my favorite chore. I grabbed the tongs and carefully removed the sock from the filter of my vacuum. It was so hairy and dusty that my kids ran away screaming, they thought it was a dead animal! It was pretty gross. So, into the trash it went, just like the "Oops, sorry mommy, I pooped a little bit in my underwear" underwear, it just isn't worth it to me. Get rid of the evidence quick and its like it never happened.
Vacuuming is always a dramatic event, its like a rated PG13 movie, there is a little violence, swearing, horror, and of course, comedy. There has never been a time when I haven't walked away with some kind of injury after vacuuming the house, mostly, bumps and bruises, except for this one time. The vacuum got hold of the ties on the bottom of my Capri's, it sucked them up so quick, I fought with them for a good 3 or 4 minutes before I thought of hitting the power button to shut the vacuum off! (dumb a**) I pulled my ties out, but didn't realize they were covered in melted rubber. It ended up burning all my fingers on my right hand. The rubber was melted onto my skin, kind of like hot glue, when you don't believe the glue is really that hot! It was painful for a few days, but not as painful as telling my husband what happened. Did you ever see that movie, A Cry in the Dark, with Meryl Streep? ''The dingo ate my baby", that's all I could think of while I was explaining to my husband what had happened. "The vacuum ate my pants".
I'm working on forgiving my vacuum, it has done a lot of dirty work for me, like taking care of bugs, tumbleweeds, hairballs, mysterious gross things and all the hairy treasures under the couch. We are a team and we mean business. When I roll that baby out, watch out...because it will always be an adventure!
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