It has sadly come to my attention that ‘Me & My Roomba’ may be well played out. Leave it to visiting children home for the Holidays to remind their parents, this parent, of how very ordinarily pathetic they may be. Now, I have great kids, but really? Throw an ol’ girl a bone here.
You can’t just stop something like this. Your love and obsession with BBQ Lays, without ridges, may well be my joy at watching a disc-shaped robot vacuum work. I mean, she is cleaning our floors for goodness sake, which means, flesh and blood kid-lets of my loins, you no longer have a welcome-back home chore list.
Dyson and his monstrous appetite can remain in isolation and needs not be lugged up the stairs. Our friend Mr. Cedar, the magic broom who leaves much to be desired, can remain hanging on his hook and we don’t even have to find the missing dust pan.
Is it not enough that you all grew up? How do you expect me to get by in this world of dust bunnies and radicle particles that occur in an empty nest? And just when would you like me to introduce you to Scooba? Yes, Scooba, Roomba’s newest cousin. Perhaps, George and Jane would just let me adopt Rosie. I mean, where did the Jetsons even go?
I would imagine this post will take me straight to child divorce court. It is suppose to be funny, Friday Funnies, no?
Well, Happiest of Fridays to everyone! Enjoy your Every Day and send sunshine a simple, little breath of light.