What I did on my weekend vacation Part 3...

Sunday came and with it the last chance I would have to get a Shark Cordless Sweeper with an intelligent swivel head and patented wall-hugging technology. We'd already tried the shopping thing, but that wasn't specific enough. I needed a reason to get into Target that seemed pressing, yet realistic. My mother can only be "tricked" when confronted with an item in the store. Theoretical wishing for something will get you a response like "Well, your birthday is coming up." Why does she consider that a reasonable phrase to use all-year round? My birthday is most certainly not coming up in August, since I was born in April. Still it's a foolproof excuse to my mother.

As if by fate, the urgent need to go to Target came. I broke my shoelace! I've never been happier to have done something so stupid. Getting new shoelaces is always nice, if inconvenient. You look at your dirty old shoes in a new way. Like when your Grandma gets a new haircut. She's not getting any younger, but the change is nice. Being at home for only a weekend I had the one pair of sneakers, so I had to tie my shoes together with a safety pin. I may have looked like a fool, but it was a small price to pay.

Finally at Target, I perused their shoelaces (can't jump right into the appliance section too quickly, lest she discover what I'm up to). A very small variety of a very few ugly laces. They seemed to only carry various colors of the same hiking boot shoelace. Not surprising considering the type of shoes they sell there. Target it where Nike's circa '92 go to die.

Swinging by the kitchen section, I furiously looked for the Shark Cordless Sweeper with an intelligent swivel head and patented wall-hugging technology. "What are you looking for?" Mom asked. "I'll know it when I see it," I replied. But it didn't see it. I heard it. Some kid was playing with a box and the box was talking. It sounded very similar to the drawn-out dulcet tones of a Mr. Moviefone voice. "The Shark Cordless Sweeper with an intelligent swivel head and patented wall-hugging technology uses a unique brush action to effortlessly clean floors, stairs, and even those hard-to-reach places." It was like music to my ears.

The Shark manufacturers turned the box for their product into an infomercial. It had a hologram displaying the unique brush action with directional arrows and everything and it spoke when you pressed the button. I ripped it from the child's grasp to admire it further. How could someone not buy it? It's so neat and it's only $60.00. "Maybe it costs that much because they put it in such a fancy box," Mom grumbled. "But Mom," I pleaded, "I need my wall's hugged, and since these Shark people have the patent, my hands are tied." She was an easy sell. Perhaps my secretive plan was more obvious this weekend then I thought. "Okay, put it in the cart." Success!

In the car I was admiring the photographs of the Shark's abilities. "It can suck up large nuts and bolts. Just think of all the home projects I can tackle now without fear of making a mess. And look how it easily picks up all of that sand. I can go to the beach much more often now. Wow, my quality of life is going to improve exponentially." By the time we made it back to my parent's, my mother expected me to take it out of the box to use on her floors. I refused. I didn't want to waste the sure-to-be magical inaugural cleaning on somebody else's floor. Even if that somebody was the Shark's benefactress.

I made it home and immediately assembled the Shark. So easy and intuitive. And it came out of the box fully charged. I spent 10 minutes sweeping every floor in the apartment (it's a very small apartment!). It was as effortless as promised, but I feared that it might not work well on our terribly uneven floors. When opened the compartment to dump any dirt I picked up, I was shocked an appalled by the amount of garbage and filth that my floors were covered in. Thank god the Shark came into our lives to save us from the hidden crumbs and dust bunnies that have plagued us without our knowledge. It's the greatest device I ever bought, and it didn't cost me a penny. Now I know how Jane Jetson must feel!