Mother and Roomba

I got one of those miraculous little robot vacuum sweepers that scurries around getting dust bunnies, dog hair, and cleaning spots I routinely neglect.  I love it.  All you have to is empty the little dust bin and unwind the dog hair off the rotary brush after each use.  It can even be set to run during the night.  The little genius even docks itself to recharge.  It has a little laser light device to fence it into a room.  I run it in the front rooms during the night and do the hall and bedrooms during the day.  One day I fooled around and left it barred in my bedroom under the bed so it couldn’t redock.  It kicked off at midnight and scared the crap out of me.  That was exciting!

Mother is hostile to technology.  She does her floors with a straw broom and stringmop the God way intended. She is even suspicious of a sponge mop.  The robot vacuum is totally baffling to her.  She can’t fathom how it knows how clean to the entire area. I couldn’t make her understand repetitive random movements.  It was no help at all when Bud told her it made a computerized map, then dropped it in my lap to explain his lie.  I will have to knock his little bitty brains out.