WAY better than Barney

A friend, M, has been singing the praises of Dyson vacuum cleaners for years. Our old green beater finally died, and we ordered the big purple, pet-hair-eating Dyson.

And M says to me "You'll want to vacuum every day. It's addicting."

I scoff - I mean, have you seen my house? I'd prefer to do less housekeeping, not more.

We get home this afternoon and the box is on our stoop. It took me about a half hour to figure out how to use all the parts, which almost killed the deal. I have a Master's degree but cannot figure out how to assemble a vacuum. That means I'm not meant to use it, right? Or that I'm just plain ol' dumb.

Anyway, I fired it up, ran it up the stairs, and took a look in the bin.

And yet, totally awesome. I'm hooked.

My new best friend is purple, loves cat hair, and is not afraid of the monsters under my bed.


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