Last week, I wrote that it’s entirely possible that the artificial intelligence and robot empires have actually conspired against us. This is basically the plot of every single sci-fi movie since approximately forever. Humans design something to serve us and make our lives so much easier. Then we inevitably end up deeply regretting that when they turn on us.
Case in point: our robot vacuum. I resisted for a long time. Other people had robot vacuums eons ago. I was worried it would suck up a small dog or something. Eventually, however, I was influenced. GirlWonder has one and loves it. I’m pretty frugal and slow to adopt new technologies. Every once in a while, however, I remember that I am a grown-up who no longer has to buy children’s soccer cleats and such and thus have disposable income for nonsense like this. So I ordered one for us. Just a simple one. No fancy mapping. Just a little plastic disc that would glide around the house and suck up crumbs and, one hopes, amuse the dogs a little bit.
Start
I had custody of our little robot vacuum for less than 15 minutes before it attempted to take its own life. Mr. Wonderful didn’t quite understand how the whole charging station situation worked and plugged that in on the countertop, as one would a telephone. While sitting on the countertop, we assumed we had some time for it to get charged up. We assumed incorrectly. With almost no warning, it made a low whining sound and propelled itself straight off the countertop and landed upside down on the kitchen floor. It lay there like a sad, plastic turtle. Little wheels spinning futilely. To be fair, I had not yet installed the little feeler whiskers that may have prevented that, so it’s probably all my fault. I’m just a negligent robot parent.
Apparently, it’s a tough little thing because I turned it over, installed the brushes, and it seemed none the worse for wear. It spun in a circle, beeped and sat there … expectantly. I expected it to take longer to set up, but actually, it was really easy. In fact, I sort of accidentally turned it on, and all of a sudden it was beeping, a green and blue light came on, and it took off. I decided to trust that it knew what it was doing. It set off toward the dining room, little brushes whirring away. It’s very quiet. Within moments, I had lost it entirely. Where had it gone?
Mr. Wonderful had joined in this adventure. There we stood. Two capable adults who have raised two humans, countless pets and can rebuild ENTIRE STRUCTURES, yet we couldn’t keep track of a 12-inch spinning disc for more than a few minutes? Where had it lost us? Sharp turn at the stairway? A quick sprint out a side door?
Now we resorted to bickering. It was as if we had lost sight of a toddler. “Where is it?” “I don’t know. I thought YOU were supposed to be watching it?” “I don’t have eyes in the back of my head, I can’t do everything, you know.”
We searched in and around various pieces of furniture and nooks and crannies. Finally, we located it wedged underneath the sofa. Apparently, when it becomes stuck somewhere, it just …gives up. Shuts down. There’s no fight in this thing at all. It’s definitely not the Team Seabolt way.
Mr. Wonderful lifted the sofa, and I hauled the comatose vacuum out from underneath. Coming into the light, the little disc began wiggling its wheels and beeping, apparently delighted at sweet freedom. No harm done then. Good news. I turned it on, set it loose, and it promptly went right back under the sofa again. So, now we know that it is not terribly bright. Or perhaps it is concussed from that tumble off the countertop?
While it is comforting to know that we are apparently marked safe from the robot vacuum staging a coup since it cannot even effectively organize dust bunnies under the sofa, I’m starting to get a little frustrated. I imagined that I could just set it up and let it clean while I relaxed. Simple, right? Well, each time I let it run, I need to constantly keep an eye on it, making sure it doesn’t get stuck on furniture or stray cords. I still have to clear up obstacles. I expected something that could handle the mess on its own. I am also told that robot lawn mowers are very popular. But it feels sketchy to trust a robot to mow the lawn. I feel like I’m babysitting this fairly harmless little vacuum — and honestly doing a terrible job at it. I’m not sure I trust one that bites.
