I’m a sucker for those “As Seen On TV” kitchen gadgets.

Show me a woman with an old-fashioned hairdo and a pantsuit, waving her hand over a seventy-five-piece monogrammed plastic food packaging and storage system, and my pulse begins to race.
Show me the whole family frolicking (is that still a word?) around the paddock with the dog and the handy-stylish monogrammed food-carrying case on wheels with the drink holder and solar radio, and I’ll dive for my credit card .

Tell me for just an extra dollar, I can get a full set of stainless steel knives guaranteed to cut steel and survive three generations, and it’s no longer a want, no longer a necessity, it’s become a must have. or i will die Forget braces for Junior, mom needs a food storage system.

My husband tried to block the channel after I ordered thirty-seven easy button kits that promise to replace your button in thirty seconds with no needles or thread required. He said it would have been a good idea if most of his shirts had buttons.

Yesterday it happened again. Just when I’ve barely recovered from the ramifications of ordering a lifetime supply of underbed sweater organizers that emit the scent of lilacs, I see her white teeth and that familiar pantsuit, and I’m under her spell again. This time it’s different. This appliance is the daddy king of all appliances – the Air Sucker 2000 – breaking all records in high-tech kitchen appliances. Put your food in the bag, slide the bag through the sealer and it will suck all the air out of the bag and keep it fresh for the rest of its life, as fresh as the day you put it in. We’re thinking of using it on Great Uncle Fred. He can seal pork chops, chicken, steak, salad, soup and even a pint of his dog’s blood in case he needs a transfusion. It would have been very useful to have when Uncle Skeeter cut his toe on the weedcutter and we needed something to haul it around.

This is revolutionary. This will save us millions of dollars in food waste. This I have to have. I decide to order three, in case they stop making them. “What are you doing?” my husband asks accusingly as I recite my credit card number to Susie, who swears the Air Sucker 2000 changed her life. How does she do it? I have to yell for help four times when I stick my foot into my new shoe (long story). It takes her ten minutes to come to my aid when my hair gets caught in the drain (an even longer story). We have a dead squirrel on our front porch for three days and he doesn’t even notice. Pick up the phone to try to place a small credit card order and it’s like you blew a dog whistle.

I tell Susie to wait, roll her eyes, and explain to my husband, trying to be patient, that this is one of those necessary purchases. “You do NOT need that,” he says, gritting his teeth. You really should learn how to manage stress more effectively. “Yeah.” “Like you need the battery-powered Bug-Be-Gone for the pool?” He can be quite sarcastic when he wants to be. “Hey, you said yourself that was a good idea,” she pointed out. “We don’t have a pool!” I snarl. I hang up the phone before Susie can call 911 to report the domestic violence and follow my husband into the kitchen where he stands with his arms folded, that look he gets when he’s about to win an argument. . Uh oh.

“Open that closet,” he barks. “Come on. Open it up. And tell me what you see.” I don’t appreciate her tone. “Let’s see,” she whispered. “There’s the green pepper spiral…the vegetable blender with the pasta attachment…the six-speed juicer with the sleeve to hold the morning paper…oh, here’s that cute serving tray with the ceramic pigs in bikinis”. the pool floats…and the pasta strainer that becomes a centerpiece…and I’m not quite sure what exactly this thing is…” My voice trails off as I drag myself further into the cabinet. “What’s that behind the silver cake stand that sings happy birthday?” he asks as I pull out a dust-covered contraption and read the words on the side: Air Sucker 2000.

Suddenly, he runs back: November, two years ago. I still remember the day it came in the mail. She was so excited. I was convinced that this revolutionary item would change my life. I could never figure out how it worked. It was missing three pieces, wouldn’t run at any speed other than high, made a horrible screeching noise, blew a fuse, and was wider than my countertop. I wrapped up a piece of chicken (which is still in my freezer, thank you very much) and decided it wasn’t worth the effort.

Okay, okay, maybe my husband is right. He is still a bit angry. It’s probably best if he doesn’t tell her that there are three more Air Suckers in the basement.