Two wonderful stories are on tap from yesterday but I've decided to save the last one and tell about the first -- because I've got some Libra in me and chronological order seems neater.
While I wondered the aisles getting the stuff I wanted and we needed, Hubby would park himself on a sales bin and watch. First came light bulbs. Then I wanted cleaning supplies. Hubby, who no longer cleans ANYthing but considers himself the most expert of cleaners, oversaw my product placement in the cart. I've finally gotten a semblance of smart and marched over and asked before I dumped stuff in the cart. "Is this a good cleaner? Can I use it on both the bathroom and the kitchen?"
"Plain bleach is better." Hubby scowls meaningfully.
"I can no longer manipulate a gallon bottle of plain bleach without making a mess. I want to spray and go."
"Well, if you must, that one is okay."
At this point, Hubby's head dropped onto the top of the cart and he had to hold his brains inside. He even moaned.
"I'm having real trouble on my knees. I know that the Swifter may be a wasted purchase and I may never like it but I really want to try it." I didn't plead (really, I didn't, I just explained).
More moaning. I stood silent. Finally, he lifted his head, squinted his eyes into his most off-putting stare and pronounced, "I just don't care. Do what you want."
I scurried off, grabbed the Swifter and put it in the cart -- along with a new broom and dust pan.
"We have brooms at home!" Hubby growled, looking even more dire.
"Yes, we do. And every time I want one you have carted it to the basement or the garage or outside for the steps and LEFT it there until it's become unusable for the bathroom or kitchen."
We walked away from Sam's with the requisite $200+ cart of food and supplies (five years ago it was the hundred dollar store -- but in this economy . . . ). Still we should be good for another month. Hubby had made it through the store, if not up and down the aisles, I had the products I wanted, and I had managed to transfer even the huge cases of water into the trunk. We did have to stop at the really great local hamburger joint, Windstead's, to get me a diet cherry lemon lime (the prettiest cherry drink in the world that comes with a dollop of sherbet) and a single cheese burger with the works. This provided me with the strength to be able to unload the car once we got home.
Today I assembled the Swifter. Usually I defer to Hubby any tool or product or machine that requires assembly. But I figured that I WANTED the wet mop and I should figure out how to make it run properly (plus I wouldn't have to listen to Hubby tell me how useless the mop was going to be). I got everything in place but I couldn't make it "squirt" cleaner onto the floor -- I think they call it misting. I took the Swifter apart three times using every configuration I could think of before the the button turned on and the detergent "misted" out. No one ever said I had any mechanical ability. I had the batteries in backward. Other than pounding nails for hanging pictures (and doing it at least three times for every picture I hang -- we use a lot of Spackle in this house), I have no idea what to do with a real tool. I think this makes for a perfect mate for Hubby.
Into the bathroom went the Swifter and me. I LOVE IT! We had much grunge in the corner of the floor by the tub and after using two Swifter pads and lots of mist, almost all the grunge is gone. I only had to bend over twice to pick up some disgusting crud from the floor -- because the Swifter pad was too full.
I have watched those Swifter ads on TV for years. I'm glad I finally bought one. This is going to make cleaning the bathroom floor a lot easier. I even used the Swifter on the cobwebs on the walls. Housecleaning has commenced!