My wife does the vacuuming. But from time to time I’ve helped out. So she asks me.
“Can you do me a favor, and vacuum the house this week? “
I work from home, she works outside the home. “No problem. I’ll vacuum.”
So this morning I grab the vacuum from the closet. It’s a new one. One of those high tech, super duper suckers. It looks more like a radon gun from a science fiction movie than it does a vacuum cleaner.
So I vacuumed the carpets, and was now ready to attack the stairs, and upholstery. My wife had told me. “When you vacuum the stairs, and the upholstery, use the attachments.”
Now this vacuum cleaner has about 6 different attachments. So without a manual, or instruction booklet I attempted to figure out which attachment was for what, and how in the hell the attachments fit onto the vacuum cleaner. I was totally confused, irritated, and really upset at the fact that my wife could vacuum with this new high tech vacuum cleaner, and I couldn’t figure out how to put the attachments on.
Forty-five minutes went by and I was still cursing at this mechanical nightmare, and wishing for the good old days when vacuum cleaners, cars, appliances, TV’s, radios, razors, toilets, and yes, even underwear, were much more user friendly.
I felt beaten, and abused. I could not figure out how to attach any of the attachments, and I promised my wife I would vacuum the house. And…I did not want her to know that I couldn’t figure out how to use the damn thing. So I came up with a plan.
I called my good neighbors daughter, a 16 year old sweetheart, she had just got home from school, and I asked her if she wanted to earn some money. She gladly accepted my offer to pay her to finish the vacuuming of my stairs and the upholstery. And I also told her. “Annie, whatever you do, don’t tell Deb you finished the vacuuming.” She finished before my wife came home from work.
After dinner my wife thanked me, and told me she was happy the vacuuming was done.
And then she says. “Don’t you just love how that new vacuum cleaner works?”
“It’s a beauty.” I told her. “A real sucker it is.”
“Can you do me a favor, and vacuum the house this week? “
I work from home, she works outside the home. “No problem. I’ll vacuum.”
So this morning I grab the vacuum from the closet. It’s a new one. One of those high tech, super duper suckers. It looks more like a radon gun from a science fiction movie than it does a vacuum cleaner.
So I vacuumed the carpets, and was now ready to attack the stairs, and upholstery. My wife had told me. “When you vacuum the stairs, and the upholstery, use the attachments.”
Now this vacuum cleaner has about 6 different attachments. So without a manual, or instruction booklet I attempted to figure out which attachment was for what, and how in the hell the attachments fit onto the vacuum cleaner. I was totally confused, irritated, and really upset at the fact that my wife could vacuum with this new high tech vacuum cleaner, and I couldn’t figure out how to put the attachments on.
Forty-five minutes went by and I was still cursing at this mechanical nightmare, and wishing for the good old days when vacuum cleaners, cars, appliances, TV’s, radios, razors, toilets, and yes, even underwear, were much more user friendly.
I felt beaten, and abused. I could not figure out how to attach any of the attachments, and I promised my wife I would vacuum the house. And…I did not want her to know that I couldn’t figure out how to use the damn thing. So I came up with a plan.
I called my good neighbors daughter, a 16 year old sweetheart, she had just got home from school, and I asked her if she wanted to earn some money. She gladly accepted my offer to pay her to finish the vacuuming of my stairs and the upholstery. And I also told her. “Annie, whatever you do, don’t tell Deb you finished the vacuuming.” She finished before my wife came home from work.
After dinner my wife thanked me, and told me she was happy the vacuuming was done.
And then she says. “Don’t you just love how that new vacuum cleaner works?”
“It’s a beauty.” I told her. “A real sucker it is.”
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