My husband asked me what I wanted for Christmas. Every year it gets more difficult to answer that question. I really don’t need much. So I thought about what would really improve the quality of my life, and decided that I need a Roomba.
Writing and anal-retentiveness are not happy cohabitators. I freely admit to both. The chaos that is my house distracts me from my work, but not enough to actually do something about it. If it comes down to vacuuming the bedroom and banging out a new chapter, the chapter wins every time. Frankly, if it comes down to vacuuming the bedroom and staring at a blank screen cursing my lack of inspiration, that would win as well. Just because one likes a clean environment does not mean one likes cleaning.
My cats also work at cross-purposes to me. They are petty and vengeful creatures. Look Sasha, the big cat just finished tormenting us with the big noisy thing. Let’s retaliate with an epic fur-tossing argument. You just ate, right? Maybe you can hork up your breakfast. While you do that, I’ll go downstairs and walk across her keyboard.
My husband, the tech dude, is convinced that the Roomba will not do the job as well as a regular vacuum, and might only work on half of the rooms in our house. My response was that the Roomba does a better job than he does, even if it sucks and only works on a quarter of the rooms in our house.
The Dude also thinks the Roomba is a stupid idea, and doubts that it would actually work. I said it won’t work on his room because it won’t climb over laundry, at which point he suggested they ought to make a Roomba that vacuums up one’s laundry, washes and dries it, and spits it out folded and ironed, like a laundry Zamboni machine. The child is a genius. Not that he could build this, however, he can barely remember that electronic items need to be plugged in. He’s an idea guy.
What I really want is a house elf. My husband says he’d give me one, but with the plethora of socks the Dude leaves around the house, he’d be free within hour. In any case, he’ll double-check to see if Hammacher Schlemmer sells them. I think I’ll have to stick with the Roomba.
After all, the Roomba might have entertainment value. I’m hoping my cats will ride it like the cat in the YouTube video. I won’t bother with the shark suit, however, nor am I getting a duck. If they don’t, I can live with that. I might have five minutes of a cat-hair free bedroom each day. As long as they don’t hork on the Roomba itself, I’m ahead of the game.