Keeping: Here for It, #346

Hi! It's R. Eric Thomas. From the internet?
Hi!

Hello again! What a long time it's been! We've all aged a thousand years but, frankly, you've never looked better. And me? Why thank you for saying something! It's this new night cream I have to slather on my face completely in the dark. If it's touched by even one tiny ray of light I turn into a gremlin, which is not a terrible result but perhaps not what I was going for when I first walked into a dermatologist's office and said, "Well, Carolyn, what are we going to do?"

Anyway, this is not about that. It's been a long summer full of situations and circumstances and perhaps one day I'll get into it but today I've gathered you all here to discuss vacuums. Scintillating!

A couple months ago, I wrote in this newsletter that The Roombas were on sale and then perseverated mightily about buying one, ultimately coming to the conclusion that I would not.

Well...

I think some Roombas are able to map your house and give you a long printout on dot matrix paper that details the dust composition of your home ("60% glitter... is that good?") But mine does not do that. My Roomba's primary vocation is chewing chords and yelling at me.

So, no, I did not get a Roomba, I got a cat.

The other day I was on the phone with my mother and the Roomba was puttering around obstreperously, as is its wont, and it decided to get itself stuck under a side table. The hubbub of the whole thing knocked the wires I'd moved on top of the table back onto the floor and the Roomba began feasting. "No!" I scolded it. "Stop that! I already told you not to do that!"

My mother was like, "Who are you fussing at?" I was like, "This Roomba does not listen to me!"

She's like, "Sounds like you've got a lot on your plate at the moment." Yes, diva, I do have a lot on my plate! My whole life is a Sizzler buffet!

Me and this Roomba are chasing each other around the house like we're doing Whatever Happened to Baby Jane. NEITHER ONE OF US IS SURE WHO IS BETTE DAVIS!

My Roomba never feels more like a cat to me than when I pick it up and pull the wires from its mouth and set it down in the middle of the floor again. I can feel it pouting in that way that cats do. It refuses to look at me. It becomes dead weight. And then it just sits there in the middle of the floor, averting its eyes.

I'm like, "Are you embarrassed by your behavior?" And the Roomba is like, "Actually, I own all of my actions and it's actually you who should be embarrassed! I am a small robot that you have anthropomorphized like we're living in a Pixar movie. Do you think you're hot enough to be the dad in a Pixar movie?!" And I shout back, "NO I DO NOT THINK THAT BUT ME AND CAROLYN ARE WORKING ON IT!"

And my mother is like, "Well, I'm going to hang up now."

There's a button on the Roomba that you can press to tell it to go back to its charging base. And sometimes I get so annoyed with it that I just press the button and shout, "Go home!" I don't need this stress in my life. I have a Swiffer and a regular person-vacuum, and, most crucially, this house is already clean! I clean before the Roomba because the Blackest thing about me is I don't really trust this lil robot to be cleaning my house the way I want it to be cleaned. The Roomba says it mops but really what it does is it drags a damp microfiber cloth around my house. Like, come on now. Let's be serious. Someone pass me that Fabuloso.

The thing is, when I tell the Roomba to go home, the app says "Just finishing up!" and then it does not go home. It proceeds to continue to clean my house. It completely ignores me. In that moment, it turns from a cat into a very opinionated British housekeeper. It's like, "Oy, sir, I'll just be on me way but first I'm going to noisily bump into the baseboards for a while to inform you of my displeasure." The Roomba acts like I don't know what I want. "If I go home, who's going to take care of all this mess?"

First of all, Mrs. Potts, watch your tone. Second of all, I'm already following behind you with a bucket and a mop because I don't trust you. So, what now?

Anyway, this was a very fulfilling purchase and it has clearly made me saner.

Asking Eric: Neighbor sends bereavement card for a person who is still alive

Dear Eric: I have a kind, retired neighbor who I infrequently see, but who is always warm and friendly when we cross paths. Nearly a month ago, my wife received a sympathy card from her expressing condolences on my passing, appreciation for what a good neighbor I was and hoping that my memory would be a blessing. It was a lovely card, but as you can tell from this inquiry, a bit premature.…

ArcaMaxArcaMax Publishing, Inc.

Asking Eric: Yoga teacher picks on longtime student

Dear Eric: I’ve been taking yoga classes for at least eight years from a woman who teaches a small group in her yard. I’m friendly with most of the students in the class, but the instructor apparently doesn’t like “the cut of my jib.” Example: She singled me out in class one time, saying I looked like “someone’s mom in the ’70s doing yoga.” For the record, she is in her 50s, and I’m 10 years…

ArcaMaxArcaMax Publishing, Inc.

Asking Eric: Stepson has plans for widowed stepmother’s next chapter

Dear Eric: My husband passed away 12 days ago after an extended illness. I have two step-kids. Two days after my husband died, one of the kids started asking for some of my husband’s belongings then unveiled his plan to “help me build a house” on some vacant land I own to “fulfill my husband’s dream.” I was taken aback. I told him I was spent from taking care of my husband and am not making…

ArcaMaxArcaMax Publishing, Inc.

Asking Eric: Parents find visits with son’s family increasingly stressful

Dear Eric: I have a problem that seems to be getting worse with time. Our son is married and very happy. He lives in another state from us so it is always a quick visit to see each other, which happens usually twice a year. The problem is my husband and I really don’t enjoy our visits. They’ve become very stressful. Time with a grown child should not be stressful. We are always walking on…

ArcaMaxArcaMax Publishing, Inc.

yes, diva, I do have a lot on my plate! My whole life is a Sizzler buffet!,
Eric