the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Tag: Dyson

Married with Dyson

This post I am writing right now might seem like I am poking fun of mommyblogger promotions and giveaways, but that is not the case.  The following is more about me and my marriage, and what to expect from a wife:

Momdot.com has started an interesting promotion titled Dyson Domestic Divas.

Every 2 weeks from now till April, we are going to be picking a new mom to spend a full two weeks with our Dyson and then come on as a Dyson Domestic Diva and give everyone the lowdown on it. Comparing it to your current household cleaning, your vacuum that you use on a daily basis, the all around ins and outs of how you feel about the Dyson after spending 2 weeks with it in your home. You will be able to blog during your experience from set up to the day it leaves, posting pictures, videos and sharing your experience with the world.

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The Dyson is an excellent vacuum.  I have one myself.  If I were a Mom, I would love to try-out this new model, the DC 25 Rollerball Animal.

Each Mom who gets picked after sign-up gets to keep the vacuum for two weeks before they have to return it to the company.

Just imagine how clean your house will be and how convinced your husband will be to let you get one after you have proven to him how great it is!

This last sentence made me think about my own marriage, and the roles we played in the home. Were Sophia and I out of step with current reality?  Do wives still need to convince their husbands before buying a vacuum cleaner?  Did I get a raw deal with Sophia?  She is the type of woman who would never ask me before buying a new vacuum cleaner!

She might say, “Neil, I want to buy a new vacuum cleaner.”

I might answer, “Why do we need a new vacuum cleaner.”

And she might reply, “Because the old one stinks.”

What am I talking about?  Sophia never used the vacuum or asked for a vacuum cleaner.  I did all the vacuuming in the house.  I was the one who bought the Dyson for our home!  Am I the only husband in the country to do the vacuuming in the house?  Not only did I do the vacuuming in the house, I had to SHOW Sophia how to used our year-old Dyson before I came to New York because she never used it before!  Was I tricked by Sophia into thinking that a husband should do anything useful in the house, like vacuuming or doing the dishes?  How did I get suckered into that?

If I ever get remarried, I’m going to be looking for a different type of wife — one who ASKS me before she buys a new vacuum cleaner?  A woman who enjoys vacuuming so much, that she will give me oral sex after she finishes cleaning the house in appreciation for my staying out of her territory.  That would be cool, and make me feel manly.

And if she did ask for a new vacuum cleaner, I would tell her that I need that money for my Maxim magazines.

“No! You cannot buy a new vacuum cleaner.  Back into the kitchen, woman.  And put on that French maid’s uniform!”

“Maybe we can get a cleaning woman?” she might ask, a little in awe of my Maleness.

“A cleaning woman?  What for!  That’s what you are here for.  And I like watching your ass move when you dust!”

“Oh honey, you are such a rascal.”

I learned three important lessons this post about Domestic Divas that I need to remember if I ever get re-married:

1)  A wife must ask her husband for permission before buying any household product.

2)  Wives love to clean the house, especially with innovative appliances.

3)  Men have no interest in household cleaning, or are they even expected to contribute and help.

Sophia apparently never read the rules.   If I ever remarry, my next wife will be a Dyson Domestic Diva.

Cheap Thrills

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When Sophia and I separated, we divvied things up the traditional way — she got most of the cool stuff we bought over the years and I got a new crappy "bachelor pad" in the city.   Luckily, we didn’t fight too much over the arrangement — except for one little matter — the constant battle over the ownership of our Dyson vacuum cleaner.  We bought it right before we separated.  And once I moved out, I refused to buy another vacuum cleaner after we had just spent 400 bucks on one. 

When Sophia first wanted to buy this fancy new Dyson machine, I was deadset against it.  I was brought up to always search for a bargain, not to spend tons of money on the top-of-the-line model.  Sophia always said I was too cheap and constantly repeated this Russian saying ( I think she just made it up herself):  "We are not rich enough to afford to buy crap."  But now that we bought it, I have to admit — this is the best vacuum cleaner ever.  It has tons of attachments, no "bag," and it is actually sort of fun to vacuum your floor with it. 

So for the last several months, the vacuum has been shuffled back and forth between our two homes. 

A few days ago, I wanted to vacuum my house after I spilled a box of Cheerios on my carpet.  I called Sophia, there was no answer, so I drove over to her place and took the vacuum without telling her.  Later that night, Sophia got mad at me, saying I should have asked her first or let her know that I was coming over. 

"What if I had a date in the house?"

This just got me mad.

"I paid for the vacuum.  Let your ‘date’ buy you a new vacuum."

She said I was a bean counter.  I countered with something nasty.  Before long, it turned into a heated fight.

The next day, I felt bad.  She was right.  I should have called first.  I shouldn’t have started the argument on the phone.  I called her up, apologized, and said I would bring over the vacuum.  I also said that I would take her out for dinner.

As I approached her home in Redondo Beach, I thought about getting Sophia some flowers.  If there was one lesson I learned in my marriage, it’s that flowers are the best way to apologize to a woman.   I pulled into the supermarket.  They didn’t seem to have much of a selection except for fall "harvest" bouquets consisting mostly of orange-dyed carnations.  I know Sophia hates carnations, especially painted ones.  I saw a bouquet of sunflowers.  Great!  Not only does Sophia love sunflowers, but the bouquet was on sale for 75% off.  The flowers did look a little tired, but $3.99 — what a deal!  I quickly bought the bouquet, and headed for Sophia’s. 

I rang Sophia’s doorbell.

"One second," she yelled.

Through the window, I could see that she was exercising in the living room. 

I looked down at the flowers, knowing she was going to love them. 

"Oops," I said to myself, as I saw that the 75% off sticker was still on the wrapper.

I quickly ripped off the sticker and stuck it on under my shirt as Sophia opened the door.

"Neilochka, flowers!"  Sophia said, beaming.  "Thank you." 

We kissed.  On the cheek.

"I’m starving.  Let me just take a quick shower and then we’ll go to dinner."

As she headed for the shower, I went to the upstairs computer to check my blog and see if I got any new comments.  Nothing, except for another pro-anorexia idiot saying something dumb on my "Too Skinny" post.

From next door, I could hear the water running in the shower.  I walked over to the bathroom and looked inside.  Sophia was behind the glass door, the water spraying down on her.  I could see the outline of her body, especially her sensual breasts as she soaped them up.  I watched as she ran her hand over her stomach and legs, then reached between her legs, the soapy water running down her thighs. 

Mesmerized, my animal instinct took over.  I ripped off my clothes, letting them fall to the floor.  I moved quickly to the glass door of the shower, and slid it open.  Sophia stood there, totally naked, one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen.   Her face showed surprise, but at the same time… I thought… anticipation. 

Every bit of sensation and feeling in my body quickly moved to my cock.  She looked down, her eyes widened and her face turned red.  For the first time in years I felt proud – she was looking at me like I was a real man again.  

But it wasn’t my growing erection that was making her so excited.  The sticker from the flowers somehow moved from my stomach and got stuck on the head of my penis.  And as my cock grew, the sticker spread out, making it easier for Sophia to read.

"75% off?  $3.99?!  Is that all your apology means to you?!  You never buy me flowers.  Now I get it.  $3.99 for a bouquet of flowers!  Could you be any cheaper?!"

"But…"

But, alas… it was not to be.  My frugality bit me in the ass.  Well, actually you know where it bit me…

I left the Dyson vacuum cleaner in the garage and took my cock home, sticker intact. 

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