Brooke here. I’m pushing hard to finish a big project so here’s a holdover house post.
Picture this: A young(ish) woman, singing the Happy Vacuum Day song as she peels the plastic off of her new vacuum. The old vacuum is sitting at the end of the porch with a dead motor, waiting to get tossed in the trash. Her husband walks by and shakes his head.
ME: It’s Vacuum Day!
ME: Happy Vacuum Day!
ME: You want to try it out?
ME: Oh come on, how often do we get a new vacuum?
BROWN: About once a year.
ME: See? You should be happy!
BROWN: This isn’t a day to celebrate. This is a day we spent several hundred dollars to replace the vacuum that we replaced a year ago, which replaced the vacuum we bought a year before that, and so on for the twelve years we’ve been together. This is a perpetual cycle of expense and despair.
ME: I’m a little hard on vacuums.
BROWN: If they were alive, I would have turned you into the police for abuse. Most tools need a cool-down period before you use them again. A white-hot vacuum cleaner doesn’t do anyone any good unless you are smelting it into a toaster.
ME: Hey, I never ask you to pay for them.
BROWN: Yes but you never buy the extended service warranty either. This is the only situation in the entire history of the free market where a service warranty is a good investment!
ME: Those things are for suckers.
BROWN: You have a Vacuum Day song. Do you realize how wrong that is?
ME: It’s a holy day. It’s appropriate to raise our voices in celebration.
BROWN: I’m getting a drink.
ME: Now you’re getting in the spirit!*
*Sorry for the pun. Stop hitting me.