In my wife’s never-ending goal to rid our home of dust in every conceivable fashion, she went ahead and bought us a robot mopper. \u00a0 Dust be GONE!<\/p>\n
At the end of the day, it’s turned out to be a pretty neat little product. It crawls its way around our floors and does a job successful enough that my wife is happy. That’s nothing to dismiss either…I’ve been on my hands and knees mopping the floor myself on occasion and it’s NOT good enough. (Images always flash in my mind of the scene in Full Metal Jacket where the drill sergeant inspects the Marines’ bunks with white gloves.) \u00a0So if this robot passes her test it’s good enough for me!<\/p>\n
Kingston already named it “Arbor” (go figure. He named his grandma’s cockatiel\u00a0bird, “Block”). And as I sat there 1am in the morning the other day watching it diligently scurrying about our floors in some pattern that only makes sense to its little robot mind, I must admit I’m growing attached to the thing like its some new pet or something.<\/p>\n
One time I came home to find it had pushed some of our slippers across the house and I almost felt like I was supposed to scold it, “Oh Arbor you naughty little guy!”<\/p>\n