The Hubby and I bought a Kirby last evening.
We hadn’t intended to. We were just getting Daniel all bundled up, ready to leave for JG’s apartment. She was treating us to pizza and a movie — a thank-you for the Hubby taking care of the initial emergency with JG’s cat Bannon and then looking after her cats while she was recuperating at her folks; and a thank-you for me meeting up with the animal control folks (she couldn’t take off for work, but I could — yay for flexible teaching schedules) and also cleaning her apartment (after all, she’s still recuperating).
We were all set to go when the doorbell rang.
And that’s when we found out that the Kirby people were in town and couldn’t really say no to an in-home demo.
‘Cause both the Hubby and I grew up with Kirbys and so we *know* just how awesome these vacuum cleaners are. In fact, the demo took much longer than usual because the Hubby was reminiscing about his mom’s Kirby with the sales rep. And so, two hours later, we bought one.
It’s sitting in the coat closet. And it’ll be around, doing it’s wonderful Kirby thing, for-almost-freaking-ever.
Just like the Kirby that’s sitting in my parents’ closet. That they bought when I was in middle school.
Spendy — but worth it!