I really am a grown up

One of the ways I mark just exactly how old I feel, since we all know age has nothing to do with adulthood, is by the items on my Christmas/Birthday List.
I used to define "gift" as something you really wanted, but it was totally impractical or completely frivolous. For example: any manner of shoes, hair accessories, makeup, clothing (non-essential), entertainment and jewelry.
Slowly, over a number of years, much like the English language, my definition has evolved.
Into: usable items. Items that benefit other members of my family.
Like a ceramic coated large cast iron dutch oven. Or a food processor. Or 1000 Thread Count bed sheets (best christmas gift ever!).

This year, I mark another notch on my growth chart.
Because this is the number one item on my Christmas list this year.

a mop.

A shark SteamPocket Mop to be exact. But still, a glorified mop.

I  am caught in a conflict of emotions.

My heart literally accelerates, when I think about this gift, but then my cheeks burn with shame that I could actually be excited about something as domestic and unexciting as a mop.

 

Every time I look at my grody floors, I quiver with anticipation. 

I don't know if you have seen the inside of my house, but I have a lot of floor to mop. And I hate mopping. Because... it either requires lugging a bucket, making frequent trips to the sink, dirty water, or 700 swiffer pads and still streaky floors.

But this mop. It is a wonder. It plugs in (no batteries-a big plus). And with two or three cups of water, and one or two WASHABLE pads, I can clean my whole floor.

No special floor cleaner, no buckets of dirty water sloshing all over. Just water.

I am officially 87 years old folks. 

And I really hope I get it this year!