Blame it on my genetic disposition towards expensive gadgetry, or my pregnancy nesting syndrome, but for weeks I have been cajoling, hinting, nudging, perhaps even begging my husband to agree that we need a new and shiny Dyson. It's not that I need his permission to buy things, but an investment of this magnitude is a decision that needs to be made jointly. The Dyson, if you don't know, is a ridiculously expensive vacuum that claims never to lose its suction.

My husband is a patient man, and a stubborn one - but even he can only take so much. The trick was to wait until it was his turn to do the vacuuming, and he pulled out our crappy three-year-old glorified dustbuster. It doesn't really suck so much as move things around on the floor. We also had a Swiffer Vac, left behind by the previous owners, but it doesn't really do much either and I am opposed to the diposable nature of the thingies you have to buy to make them work properly. Even then, it's no substitute for a real vac, especially if, like us, you have a cat and it's shedding season.

Faced with the dilemma of having to use one of these two machines to sweep up two weeks of dust, he finally caved - "If you want the Dyson, we should get it." I did a somersault with joy.

We headed off to Future Shop where a salesperson, clearly on commission, tried to sell us on the "pet hair" model, which was $200 more than the one we eventually bought. We stood firm on that and settled on the "Slim", which actually isn't really all that slim, but is a lot slimmer than the other models (most of them are HUGE!)

On the way home, Julian said, "Listen, if this doesn't work exactly as we want it, we should return it." I panicked for a moment, but I reminded myself to have faith. We brought it in - and he ran it over the jute Ikea carpet in our living area. Within a moment, he was sold.

This is what the canister collected in our 700 square foot apartment - it hadn't been swept in 10 days, which is a lot longer than we usually go, but not long enough to be considered truly vile, I don't think.

Welcome home, baby.