Retiring to Mazatlan: Dyson

Try as she might, I am NOT the clean freak, my Mother had hoped for.

I have never lost sleep over dust bunnies.

Things have never had to be polished bright enough that you have to put on sunglasses in our house.

And dishes have gone unwashed, until there’s no room left on the counter and sink...OR we’ve run out of clean stuff altogether.

‘Linda not again!!!’

“I can’t hear youuuuuuu”

Hub walks over and pulls the plug...‘This has to stop!’

Putting the hose down, I reach over and grab the cord... “Dyson didn’t like that!”

‘You do realize you’re talking about a vacuum like a real person, right?’

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” as I take the cord and head into the other room.

‘Linda! It’s a vacuum cleaner! And it’s not even yours...you’re like babysitting it! Get a grip!! You don't even like cleaning.’

“How many times have I told you it's not about cleaning and it’s not just a vacuum cleaner...Dyson is the best cleaner, EVER!”

‘It’s just a vacuum!’

“Hey! I enjoy Dyson’s company...he doesn’t argue with me, he gets stuff done and he doesn’t leave stuff lying around.”

I watch Hub leave the room to go out to the garage.

Ten minutes later I carefully put Dyson back into his corner. As I venture down to the livingroom I hear the back door open...“What are you doing now?” I ask.

Hub holds up his electric drill... ‘Linda meet Debbie.’

“You’ve got to be kidding!”

‘Hey, don’t make jokes. Debbie here is very important to me. She does what I want, when I want. She doesn’t nag me about anything AND I don't have to talk to her, ever!’