Smooshed-Faced Stories: Starring Beeker the Pug— Part 2

Monday, November 26, 2012


Part 2: Beeker vs. The Roomba




If you don't know what a Roomba is I'll give you brief summary. A Roomba is that vacuum that cleans your house when you're not home. When it works correctly it's amazing. When it doesn't, that's a whole 'nother story.

I got my Roomba as a Christmas gift from my mom and dad. My mom is always worried that I work too hard, so her solution, albeit minor, was to get me a Roomba. She said, "Look it will vacuum while you're at work. That way when you get home there won't be dog hair tumble weeds rolling around." (Insert her semi-grossed out face). 

Whatever, dog hair tumble weeds or not, the Roomba was pretty bad ass. I watched multiple videos on YouTube as it slid around sucking up all kinds of crap, avoiding the stairs and navigating kitchen chairs. There was even one video of a cat riding on top of it. Hilarious!

I was sold. So when I opened my Roomba on Christmas Eve, I was beyond excited. It was like opening Western Skipper on Christmas morning circa 1983. Even better was that my mom and dad (not really my dad, he just footed the bill.) had bought the high end model. It had a rotating brush that cleaned the baseboards, little laser towers that kept it from going into unwanted rooms. It was awesome!

I was off work on winter break, but I still used it a few times. Here is where Roomba disappointed me. First, it does not recognize my stairs and plummets down them. Stupid Roomba! Insert quote from my mom, "It committed suicide when it saw the amount of dog hair." Oh, she's a funny one. 

Second it gets trapped under my kitchen table. It's going all ape shit, crashing into the table legs and the chairs. It's all very reminiscent of that three point turn scene in Austin Powers. Again, Roomba, why are you so dumb? 

Third time, is definitely not the charm. It eats my freakin' Christmas tree skirt. I shoved it in the closet and thought, maybe I'll have more respect for it when I come home to a well vacuumed house after a long days work.

This is where Roomba heads to the top of my shit list. Literally, my SHIT list.

With a smile on my face and a renewed sense of hope, I start my little vacuum machine and leave for work on my first day back from break. 

Mill around at work, tie some shoes, count to 100, take a bathroom break, read a few stories, what rhymes with duck? (These are kindergarteners, mind yourself!). Ta-dah! Day is done and off to evaluate Roomba's progress.

I walk in, on the phone with my mom, baby on my hip and HOLY SHIT! Again, literally, shit.

My lovely baby, before I had a baby, Beeker, had pooped in the house and as you can de"duce" (pun intended), Roomba, that stupid robot, ran it over!

My high end, fancy baseboard sweeping Roomba ran over Beeker's shit and not only dragged it throughout my house, but also managed to smear it all over the baseboards, too.

Now mind you I am on the phone with my mom who quips, "Oh, stop being so dramatic!" Dramatic? She can't be serious? There is dog shit on every surface of my home. The only upside to this scenario is that I live in a 1500 square foot house. The one I complain is too small at least once a day, but on poop day, it was far too big!

Needless to say, the carpets got shampooed that night, all the baseboards scrubbed down and a valuable lesson was learned by all...animals, especially Beeker are terrified of Roomba. It scared the shit out of him.



Coming soon: Part 3 -Beeker loves diaper bags with guest appearances from Oscar the Cat.





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