Me and My Swiffer

I'm not sure what possessed me to buy a Swiffer sweeper, but I did. About a year ago. A year of me looking at the darn thing and wishing I hadn't bought the Costco-sized box of Swiffer refills (wet and dry!)

The thing is useless to me.

In my mind, when I was purchasing the thing, I thought it was the answer to all my problems.

Of course, my house will always be clean. I just needed a swiffer!

Not really.

It doesn't take the place of the mopping I never do.
It does a shabby job of sweeping. It just moves stuff around.
After about 3 wipes, I have to remove the black, lint-filled swiffer refill and throw it away.

Every time I throw it away, I feel guilty for making garbage.

Immediately after I had bought the thing, I saw a Method version.

Oooh... I should have bought that! Compost-able? Less harsh ingredients in the wet refill?

Darn.

Every once in a while I bring the thing out. For instance, just now, I tried swiffing my front room since after removing an area rug, the tiles were covered with a fine sheen of sand/dust.

I thought the Swiffer could help with that.

But all it did was remind me of what a waste of money it is and what a shame that I still have a giant box of swiffer wipes that will be thrown away.

It hurts me to even type this. I'm the kind of person who washes her babywipes for goodness sake. The swiffer wipes seem a bit too genteel for the washing machine, but who knows?

I will continue to drag the swiffer out once a month. Go on a swiffing spree on my floors. Put it back in the garage next to the boxes of refill pads and continue to feel guilty until I've used up every last swiffer wipe. And some-how my floor will still feel dirty.