Or so I would like to believe as it would quickly explain why I get overly excited about the acquisition of new vacuum cleaners through out my life.
Nevermind the fact that Niven, my invisible friend lived in a vacuum cleaner during the formative years of my young life. That's a whole other story.
I distinctly remember when my parents purchased a hoover upright with headlights and a detachable dustbuster. It was pretty much like the Knight Rider of Vacuum cleaners. It even had a digital display where you could up the power from 3 LEDS to 5 with the press of a button. Totally Radical!
Needless to say, I wanted people to share in the excitement. At the time, my mother (who is a therapist) worked out of our home and I was telling one of her clients in the waiting room (IE our living room) all about the wonders to behold in the magestic hoover.
The client gave me a puzzled look and told me I was weird. Man, that is low, someone in therapy calling ME weird. I guess it is equally low that I am now writing this and making a subtle implication of pot and kettleness, thus suggesting people in therapy are weird, when the true fact of the matter is that WE ARE ALL WEIRD in some fashion but I digress.
Fast forward about 25 years when me and melady decide to buy our first vacuum together (awwwwwwww!) this past weekend.
After 30 seconds of online research, specifically reading a comment "It is the Shaq of vacuums" I was sold on the almighty Dyson. Due to our ownership of one Ms. Bailey "Rosa Parks" Peabody the first, our cat we opted for no ordinary dyson, but one who goes by the street name "The Animal."
How could you not get excited about a vacuum cleaner called "The Animal." Christ, it is only missing a small handheld unit called "The Hawk" and you basically have the greatest tag team of all time as vacuum cleaners. Sure it's purple, but so is grape soda and we all know even the staunchest of gangsta rappers can't hate on grape soda.