Over the weekend, for various reasons, the vacuum cleaner was needed. I know I should be embarrassed, but I actually think it is pretty funny that my children scold me for using the vacuum. They insist that it is Ms Anne's (my friend who cleans our house every two weeks). I suppose it is a sign that I don't use it enough myself, but it's services were needed, so out it came. I have a long history of killing vacuum cleaners. No vacuum I have ever owned has ever made it past 6 months in our house. I think it has a lot to do with our history of at least four furry animals in our house shedding all over my carpets. This vacuum was a hand me down, and it has lasted for almost three years. Shhhh...don't let it hear that it is supposed to be dead already. He has been my faithful companion now for much longer than I expected, so I was quite sad when Mike brought out the vacuum to clean up the strawberry milk powder that Molly had spilled all over the floor, and he asked...
Mike "What do you do to make this thing stay up??"
Me "I'm sorry...what's wrong?"
Mike "The vacuum, it keeps falling over, how do you get it to stay up?"
Me "I don't know...you should be the professional in this area."
Mike "huh??"
Me "Well, if you must know, I would probably buy it a drink, and stroke it a little, but I am not sure that works with vacuum cleaners..."
Mike (shakes his head) "I think the locking mechanism might be broken, and how old are you??"
Me "Yeah, I know. It was broken the last time I tried to use it as well. It still seems to work otherwise, so just prop it up against the wall. We could always try to vacuum up a little Viagra and see if it helps."
Mike "You are just not right some times..."
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