America’s Next Top Model … of vacuum

I cannot express the wonder we are experiencing with the newest member of our family–Ken, the vacuum.  

 I suppose the best indicator of how besotted A is with the appliance is the fact that he has yet to put it away in the two weeks since we bought it, instead choosing to keep it in plain sight and ready to suck whenever the moment strikes.

We bought our former, step-child vacuum (much to A’s frustration) as a bargain special.  Because our first apartment was approximately the size of a roomy doghouse, our vacuum did not need to do much work.  We plugged it in, zoomed around the carpeted patch and turned it off, without even having to unplug.  Those were the days.

Our new apartment (which I will someday put up pictures of if it’s ever suitable for a photo session) is three times larger than our former dwelling and is mostly carpet.  That, and the fact that the former tenant apparently prepared and cooked his food/meth on said carpet made it clear we would soon need a new, workhorse vacuum.

After months of deliberation, research and countless games of Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine who would use the old vacuum each week, rendered useless by the insurmountable layers of grime apparently lurking underneath, we finally purchased our new model.  And while I usually do not do the whole product placement thing, I will make an exception for this glorious piece of equipment: a Kenmore Intuition bagless titan of suck.


While we vacuum faithfully once a week, in our first sweep of the apartment under Ken’s guidance, we FILLED the container with pet hair and various jetsam that I would prefer not to think about.  I have a feeling if we sold it on the streets, we could get a pretty penny for it, because there must be some residual crank (Googled that synonym, FYI)  in the carpet from the squatter before.  Can’t be sure, but the guy put bandages over the keyholes, so you be the judge.

We both crawled over to the vacuum like archaeologists, examining the overflowing canister with overwhelming awe and nausea.  We had been treading on all of that STUFF for months.  Does that count as a pre-existing condition?

So here’s to you, Ken.  We love you.  You have changed our lives.  And you have officially surpassed the refrigerator as the new favorite.


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