After years of gazing upon it with hungry eyes, I finally reached the riches of middle age and bought myself the Shark S3101 Steam Mop. And it’s every bit as magical as it’s been in my dreams.
Guys, you don’t even use cleaner in this thing. Just fill the tank with water (cold from the tap!) and the little motor heats it up, then pushes steam through the specially-designed-microfiber-fancy-schmancy-pad-thingy. The steam shoots down into the tile grooves and “loosens and lifts” the dirt to get your floor much cleaner than a normal mop can. See the brown tile floor above? It was practially white by the time I was done. Practically. (Okay, maybe virtually.)
But the most impressive piece of the Shark S3101 Steam Mop is neither the motor nor the microfiber nor even the mulberry-colored handle, pretty though they are. No, the tool’s loveliest surprise presented itself at the back of the instruction manual, where I found this:
Yes, mi vidas, it is an actual space, designed and assigned by the Shark S3101 Steam Mop Company, to write down any notes one may have about one’s Shark S3101 Steam Mop.
Special notes. Important notes. Private notes.
About one’s mop.
For a repressed housewife like me, it’s almost too good to be true: like the god of journalism married the goddess of housekeeping and invited me to sign the guest book.
My blog was born a few years ago when, driving down the highway with my husband, I pulled my sunglasses out of my bag, put them on, and looked up to see my husband’s horrified reaction. Apparently a stray junior mint had been rolling around the bottom of my purse, wreaking havoc on its contents. Now melted, the mints’ gooey white centers had settled on my sunglasses, creating a Frostybrow that I was ignorant of until my dismayed husband pointed it out to me. He then informed that my mishap with the mints was a metaphor for my life. I don’t think it was a compliment, but I thought it made a pretty good blog title.