Don't Upset the Roomba
Here is the back story. On Sunday Tinseltroos was out of the flat for of her regular Bollywood marathons so it was just Murphy and me. Murphy is a regular little trooper but he only has enough puff to vacuum half of the flat in a single charge after which he has to go and have a little rest. I needed to go and do some shopping so I set Murph off to do one half. Later on I went out again to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull again (I make no apologies, I love it) so Murph got to clean the other half of the flat. The little guy did an admirable job and we had a nice clean flat.
On Monday Tinseltroos, not realising that Murphy had already done both sides of the flat, set him off to do the hallway and living room again. Murphy took umbrage at this, I suspect he felt it was slight on his workmanship from the previous day and duly when I returned home it was to a scene of a devastation. Murphy had scattered the neatly arranged collection of recycling everywhere. Cans, beer bottles and milk containers littered the entire flat. In a final, desperate act of self destructive rebellion Murphy had knocked his own power supply out of the wall and driven himself on top of it: a clear plea for help I think.
I carefully untangled the unhappy little robot and plugged his charger back in. After petting him a little and reassuring him that he was still very much loved and was a very good little robot I plugged him back in and went about the flat picking up the remnants of his day long bender.
We haven't had the heart to ask him to clean any of the flat this week. With luck he will have forgiven us by tomorrow.
On Monday Tinseltroos, not realising that Murphy had already done both sides of the flat, set him off to do the hallway and living room again. Murphy took umbrage at this, I suspect he felt it was slight on his workmanship from the previous day and duly when I returned home it was to a scene of a devastation. Murphy had scattered the neatly arranged collection of recycling everywhere. Cans, beer bottles and milk containers littered the entire flat. In a final, desperate act of self destructive rebellion Murphy had knocked his own power supply out of the wall and driven himself on top of it: a clear plea for help I think.
I carefully untangled the unhappy little robot and plugged his charger back in. After petting him a little and reassuring him that he was still very much loved and was a very good little robot I plugged him back in and went about the flat picking up the remnants of his day long bender.
We haven't had the heart to ask him to clean any of the flat this week. With luck he will have forgiven us by tomorrow.
Labels: contrition, melancholy, mood, technology
scribbled hastily by Mr Atrocity at 4:07 pm
5 Comments:
I bet if you gave him his own little 2 gig usb drive he'd forget his misadventures in a flash.
Hilarious. Has he started dressing in black and listening to The Cure? Because then you'll know for sure he's crying out.
I'm getting - guitars. Hang on.. guitar magazines. Good. Journalism... oh my. A valve amp? OMG even I don't have one of those just yet!!!
Just stopping by to say hello. Th ewritign was good and the subjects illuminating.
AV
poor murph... my tammy committed suicide 3 years ago and i must give this advice: be sensitive to his feelings
Booda Baby, yes I think we may have to bribe him with treats.
Churlita, he hasn't been listening to The Cure as far as I am aware. I think he's more of a My Chemical Romance type of robot.
Axe Victim, thanks for the kind words, and thanks for stopping by.
Margaret, don't worry, he'll be getting lots of TLC this week until he's back to his usual grumbly, malcoordinated self.
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