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Our new vacuum sweeper.

Okay, I know, I know … it’s TOTALLY lame to be writing about a VACUUM SWEEPER on this little blog of mine. And I just lost the interest of 85 percent of you by venturing into household appliance land. But Internet peeps, if you even knew what kind of trade-up Nick and I just experienced with this purchase, you might then have some appreciation for why I now feel like opening my door, running out into the middle of our street, and shouting to any neighbor in earshot, “YOU ALL NEED TO COME LOOK AT HOW CLEAN OUR FLOORS ARE NOW!”

See, we have this dog. One that, despite her cuteness, sheds about a pound of hair, oh, I don’t know, EVERY DAY. And our old vacuum? Well, if the government had a clunker program for vacuums, we would have traded it in for the Chevette that it was. Because it had ceased to do the job for a while now. Which is how we found ourselves last Saturday at the local sweeper shop, purchasing the Cadillac of sweepers after listening to a kind and knowledge salesman explain to us all the pros and cons of the vacuums in the store while sweeping up swirls of dog hair and pink dust. (For real, if you saw how much the Dyson sucked at … well, sucking, you’d be surprised!)

This morning, as I cleaned house, I felt like dancing a jig from behind this machine. And suddenly, I was vacuuming things in the house you probably shouldn’t be vacuuming. Counter tops, the bathtub, the inside of my bread drawer, the interior of our refrigerator. If Daisy’s not careful, I might just suck her up next.