Husband always does a wonderful job with gifts. This year was no exception. He bought me a beautiful necklace, which I wore every day of our Christmas vacation, a refill of my favorite perfume, and..... drum roll....
the most awesome vacuum cleaner known to (wo)man. It takes the cake. It's the bees knees. The best thing since sliced bread. Better than a bowl of cherries. Or a spoonful of sugar.
With attachments and an air filter just for:
the problems this little mammal brings to our home: silky brown hair and that precious canine musk.
When I told people what Husband gave me they whispered, "Are you mad at him?"
Quite the contrary. I'm ecstatic with him.
I've been beating and cursing our pathetic Dirt Devil for three years. It spit out more than it sucked up and I had to vacuum 24 hours before having company to give the house time to air out from all the heavy allergens it cast into the once-breathable oxygen. I kid you not. It was a weekly war.