dust buster

We bought a new vacuum cleaner.

I had very little to do with the purchase, really. Since Brett brought a vacuum with him when we moved out here, it was pretty much his call. While I was away in the Midwest, it was determined that this minor appliance would no longer make the cut. It was a fairly sad piece of equipment; the brushes didn't really spin and there wasn't much in the way of suction, but it had worked well enough we thought. But that week, Brett called me and said that we would just have to get a new one.

Which, as you might imagine, did not make me terribly happy.

When I got back from my trip, Brett had already done a bunch of research online and pretty much already picked out a model that he liked. We trekked down to the Big Box Store in Oneonta. Feeling a little out of the loop and a little poor, I made some reluctant noises and annoyed faces and I insisted on looking at each of the vacuums they had in stock. The one he liked had a HEPA filter, a pet hair attatchement, a little tornado bucket instead of a bag- it's one serious cleaning tool. Still feeling a little pinched about the price, I eventually agreed with Brett that the one he picked looked best and we stuck it in the cart and headed to check out.

And you know what? He was completely right.

The thing is amazing!

Seriously, I've never been this psyched about an appliance before. We pushed it around the living room and filled the bucket multiple times on the first sweep. We kept pulling the bucket out and looking at it and every time we were shocked at how much dirt we had been living in. It even picked up all the cat fur in the big shaggy carpet upstairs, something the old vacuum never even came close to doing.

The only problem I can see is that being this thrilled and entertained by a freaking vacuum cleaner must mean I'm getting old...