Rover the Robot

I always wanted one. I finally bought a Roomba Robotic Vacuum. It drives around on its own, seemingly randomly sometimes, scooping up dirt with a little brush/vaccuum on its underside. It's got several sensors to avoid obstacles or react to bumping into things, and has "advanced algorithms" for full floor coverage. Watching to see if it eventually gets a plainly visible bit of dirt is a little like high-speed cow-chip bingo. It even returns to its docking station when it's done or its battery is exhausted.

It's been a source of great fascination in the house. I love studying how it goes about its business and trying to figure out how it's making its decisions. Bec loves to micromanage it, picking it up and making it go over missed spots (I'm working at getting her to be at peace with the Advanced Algorithms...). Quinn gets up on the couch and chatters excitedly about its progress.

We decided upon a name of 'Rover' for our robot. Rover has already become a part of the family. In fact, Rover might have already surpassed our perpetually-hidden cat Tulsa on the depth chart. We joke about Rover tickling our toes. Quinn woke up the other morning and said "Time to turn on Rover!" (or 'Woever' as he calls him). One other day Quinn was having a complete meltdown until I played the Rover Fascination card - upon which Quinn was completely galvanized and forgot all about his malaises. That was an unforseen benefit not shown in the glossy brochures. Even Tulsa, terrified of everything, seems to not even notice it.

As a side benefit, it's even actually not bad as a vacuum. It's not a replacement by any means, but it keeps a lot of the summertime detritus in check. Like all pets though, it has achieved status enough to likely warrant expensive repairs when the inevitable breakdowns occur. Until then, we'll keep studying, coaching and placing our cow-chip bingo bets.