I went to lunch with a co-worker today. Going to lunch with others is not unusual. What I asked was. But, much to my surprise, I was glad I asked. I found it!

When we returned to the office, I mentioned my find and, to my surprise, I found an even better one. The search was not for me but for him but I was as excited as if it were for me. I reached for the phone.

Yes, Mr. Philately was in. I waited�.impatiently�.until I heard his voice on the line. I assumed the receptionist had introduced me and I took my wifely prerogative. I jumped right in without even an �it�s me.�

�I found it!� I told him. �I found you a dead vacuum cleaner. You can have it on the condition you don�t give it back.�

My excitement was more than matched. You would have thought the man won the lottery. At that moment, the dead vacuum was the best present I could have thought of. �And if I get it tomorrow,� he explained. �They�ll have something to do.�

Some men pretend not to know what a vacuum cleaner is. A few will demonstrate how to use one. Even fewer will wish for one. But I am willing to bet that most of the very few men who crave a vacuum cleaner want a hopelessly broken one and I am lucky enough to be married to one.

Mr. Philately is not just any man. He�s technical director for the middle school play and in this version of �The Wizard of Oz,� the Wicked Witch of the West gossips with a friend who has the latest thing: a vacuum cleaner to ride. And now she has one, at least after the stage crew removes the guts to make it lighter.

Now, if only I could find him a beat-up, drop-leaf table.

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