Cool kids still ruin my life

As I was experiencing a rare moment of housecleaning motivation, I grabbed the carpet shampoo from the laundry room shelf.

Imagine my surprise when I read this on the label:

"Safe For All Popular Machines." 

I never considered my steam cleaner cool or popular. He seemed average. Kept to himself, a solid B student. He always had to be carried up the stairs for chores, because he wasn't ambitious enough on his own.

I thought this was typical.

I asked him, "Honey, are you popular?" 

He mumbled something.

"I know you are hot and steamy," I said, "but are you popular?"

It became obvious to both of us. This was going to be a make-over day.

From seeing the kids around the neighborhood, I knew a thing or two about "popular."
So, I bought my baby a backpack and headphones. His hat and scarf were mismatched on purpose. I caved and handed over my car keys.

The journey had begun. 

Concert t-shirts were always fashionable when I was kid. 

We agreed on Rush (of course).

Look! Some interest from another kid.

Maybe this guy will tell his friends and my kid will become popular, I thought. 

We added bongos. 

It worked!

Yet, I wondered how much more effort was necessary. 

How popular does a steam cleaner need to be? Scholars and philosophers have been chasing the answer to that question for ages. I never gave it much thought, but this day my carpets were really dirty.

We pressed on.

The winter hat was replaced with a ball cap. A backwards ball cap. 

Dang.

Even I became intimidated by my steam cleaner's hipness. 

When asked about his feelings, he said, "talk to the cleaning bristles, woman." I think he also may have mentioned something about shizzles. 

Had I created a back-talking monster? I couldn't resist testing the matter:

"You can't make me wear this stupid hat. You never understood me. I HATE YOU!" screamed my steam cleaner. 

It was then that I realized...

Divas don't clean carpets.

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