Men are from Mars, women are from... Mars?

Anyone who thinks women don't get into gizmos hasn't seen Marisa with her new vacuum.

At the risk of jeopardizing my future marriage, let me point out she's been talking about this vacuum almost from the moment we started dating (and she realized my old townhouse needed a good vacuuming), itched for it every time my vacuum went funky, complained every time my vacuum - once good, now kind of sucky in a non-vacuumy way - went kerflooey and gazed enviously at my friends' version.

Then, when my (late, lamented) vacuum finally caved in under the weight of Norton and Pumpkin's pet hair, she researched this monstrosity online, postponed her dreams of a china cabinet and ordered what has to be the mother of all vacuums.

• It's bagless.
• It's got a filter.
• It rotates on a ball.
• It has brushes on the sides.
• It has lights.
• It has buttons.
• It's bright freakin' purple.

Then she tracked it religiously online. ("Guess where the vacuum is?!")

Then, on Friday, she had a half-day, so we could have lunch together. Every time a car went past the window, she looked outside, hoping it was UPS. It got so bad, I kept looking out the window to make her look.

Finally, as I left for work, I passed the delivery guys on the way.

By the time I got home some eight-plus hours later, she'd vacuumed the entire downstairs and tested all the attachments - and in a sign that despite her gadget obsession, she's a woman and not a man, she even read part of the manual.

She then showed me every single part. (See list above.)

Of course, when she eagerly said, "you try it!" I pushed one button and the whole damn thing fell apart. And she showed me how to put it back together.

So now I have a space-age-looking purple vacuum that I don't understand and am not sure I'm even allowed to touch again even though I'm normally the one who does all the vacuuming on cleaning day...

Hey, wait a minute, why am I complaining?

Vacuum on, my gadget-loving domestic-goddess-in-training!