Another Mother’s Day has come and gone… and I still don’t have a Dyson.
My dream of owning the expensive vacuum has become a running joke in my family, though there’s one person who’s not laughing-—my daughter.
Whereas I would love to add the bagless upright with Ball and Root Cyclone Technology to my cleaning collection, I am content with my current Hoover and the knowledge that it didn’t suck out our entire savings to purchase.
Still, my sensitive kindergartner often gets misty whenever a Mommy gift-getting occasion passes and I crack a joke about my Dyson dreams being dashed.
“Thank you for all of the gifts,” I wholeheartedly proclaimed to my family after Mother’s Day brunch.
“But, Mommy,” quipped my daughter “you still didn’t get a Dyson.”
“It’s okay honey,” I replied. “Maybe Santa will bring me one for Christmas.”
“He didn’t when you asked for one last year,” she shot back.
“Well, maybe the Dyson Fairy will deliver one when my other vacuum dies,” I suggested.
“There’s no such thing as a Dyson Fairy, Mommy.”
Can’t get anything past that girl.
I went on to reassure my daughter that this was the best Mother’s Day ever, regardless of the missing Dyson, and that I didn’t need a vacuum to make me happy.
My daughter accepted my reasoning, though she did so very reluctantly. Part of me wonders what would have happened had I actually unwrapped the super sucker-upper during our Mother’s Day celebration. I think she might have been more surprised than me. After all, my unfailing desire for a Dyson is something my daughter often uses to her advantage.
For example, after she gets reprimanded for bad behavior, she often spits out: “Mommy, I’m not getting you a Dyson. Even though I promised. I’m not. I’m just not.”
She also uses the pricey vacuum as a bargaining chip: “Mommy, if you let me have another dessert I’ll get you a Dyson.”
“How are you going to buy me a Dyson? You don’t have any money.”
“I’ll get it from Daddy or Grandma.”
If the day ever comes when a Dyson actually makes it under the Christmas tree, my daughter would be leverage-less.
I may still be Dyson-less, but I did receive a priceless Mother’s Day gift from my daughter before she went to bed. My little angel spent 10 minutes cleaning the house with her toy vacuum.
“What’s this?” I yelled over the tiny roar of her Dirt Devil Jr. upright.
“Lot… of… work…” my little drama queen replied gasping for breath while simultaneously wiping her brow in utter exhaustion from pushing around less than a pound of plastic.
“Lots… of… hard… hard… work… just… for … you… my… sweet… Mother!”
Who needs a Dyson when you’ve got a kid like mine?