This past Christmas, all my Mother wanted was a Roomba a robotic vacuum cleaner. You have to keep in mind that my Mom is neither a spring chicken nor computer savvy. Ditto for my Dad.
So we did what all good children do, we pooled our dollars and purchased the Roomba. While my Mom was quite pleased, the rest of us were quietly grumbling. It is very difficult to teach your parents how to master new gadgets, triple hard if said contraptions are computerized.
A couple weekends ago I was visiting the family and was called upon to teach Mom how to use the Roomba. Unfortunately, she waited until a couple of hours before I was to head back home so all I could really do was insert the battery and set it up to be charged for sixteen hours. I was able to go over the instructions with her. When I read to her that the Roomba would take 45 minutes to vacuum one room, she was not pleased. She thought that the Roomba was going to rival good ole Rosie from the Jetsons.
She assumed that the Roomba would go back and forth in a room a few times and bing, bang boom the room would be dust free. When I explained to my parental units that the Roomba would need to detect dirt and dust and oh by the way they would definitely have to clear the piles of stuff on every square inch of the floors for the thing to be effective, they all but kicked me out of the house.
It was right about then that I remembered why I live an hour and a half away. Sometimes my brilliance amazes even me.
The following Monday, my Mom called me at work with a lilt in her tone. I asked her what was up and she could not stop talking about her new friend Roomba. It appears that my BIL went over after it was charged and he spent a few hours making sure she and my Dad learned the ins and outs of the Roomba.
Miraculously, the machine was able to clean like a charm albeit slowly. But you know what? The parental units are rather slow by now too, so it all works out in the wash. (Pun entirely intended) So the Sisters Wicked scored big time with this year’s gift and Mom AND Dad are happy. Trust me. This is very difficult to achieve.
The Roomba has saved the day. She invites her friends over in small groups to demonstrate the thing and aks why their children are not as generous. (“P” if you are reading this, I apologize in advance!)
Behold, my new favorite family member:
Roomba. Although my Mom has given it a human name, as long as she is happy and neither of them breaks a hip tripping over it.
Last I checked, my Dad was trying it out as an electric coaster. I had to remind him that it is a computer that probably should not try to balance drinks on top of it.