I really need a Dyson vacuum cleaner. If only to remember the one who told me about it. It was at work one day when I was talking about the hairs in my carpet. “This will solve your problem,” she said. And that’s all she needed to say to get my attention. I went to Target the following weekend to check it out and realized it would set me back more than I had to spare, more than I was willing to give. But that’s why I really need it now. To know I can set myself back $500 and it will be an investment, not a dent in my wallet. I need something that will carefully pick up every mistake I have ever made and suck it into oblivion. I will think of her every time it wipes my slate clean. And Anne as well with the carrot-colored hair. For a slate that ended up on Gilbert Blythe’s head. Maybe I’ll find a lost earring or two in the carpet. They are my Lost Boys. Once I get them paired up again, I’ll go fetch Wendy. If a Dyson can do that, it is worth every penny.