My Electricals Are Trying to Kill Me.

No, I haven't lost me marbles, and am not thinking that my washer or cooker are conspiring against me- I know how rumours start in the blog world.


My vacuum. All has been semi OK with it. Until this morning.


I was sent, about 18 months ago, a very nice vacuum cleaner, which I loved so much. Except about 4 months back, Littlest decided to snap the inside bit that held the bag in place, and it went to the tip. I sobbed. I loved its attachments, its cable which snapped back on its own. It was a tiny little thing. 

Hence I had to remove, from the cupboard (which is the electrical item equivalent of Gods waiting room), my hulking great stinky, lacking attachments Henry vacuum. Which I hate.


They may look cute- that's why I bought it. But the reason they have that smiley face is to hide the fact that:

• They are stupidly heavy and no good for carrying upstairs or vacuuming the staircase with.
• They smell. Or at least mine does.
• They don't retract their own lead (yes that's my laziness rather than a design fault).
• They don't take kindly to being moved around- mine tends to tip over.

The first major fault we had with it was when it suddenly decided not to switch on (is it wrong that I was over joyed as I thought I could throw it out?) without warning. Except Elder, in his tradition of being Gadget Dad, "fixed" it so that the switch was by-passed and you just plug it in and off it goes. 


Then, the bags kept being ripped, couldn't find why, so we just went without. 


The constant one was the pipe which is always getting blocked, and I then have to find the old map handle to shove down it. 


It out did itself this morning.


I plugged it in, with the intention of cleaning the crap off the cooker top- don't ask- and dragged it out.


At which point I plugged it in and it electrocuted me. 


Bloody hurt as well, straight up my arm and knocked me flying.


Ouch, ouch ouch.


(Would you believe that my delightful son decided to laugh at me?).


So, the Henry is going. 


The pipe getting blocked, and heaviness going upstairs I can just about take.


Trying to kill me, I cannot.


Bloomin' vacuums. You don't get this much trouble from mops.

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