My New Best Friend

I have a new best friend.

Anyone who knows me, knows I hate to clean. In my very first apartment in the 70s I hung a poster just inside the back door of a woman holding a broom with huge lettering,” F*** Housework! “ across the top. Now, I’m not much for using the F-word, but that poster said it all without me saying a thing. Anyone visiting my humble abode quickly knew that housekeeping was not one of my strong suits. Later on, when my design/writing business was going strong I hired house cleaners. What a blessing! They would fly through the house, every two weeks, and turn my dusty cat hair-infested home into a clean and livable place. Love, Love, Loved it!

After closing the business and earning my living in the not-for-profit sector, I was back to my cleaning schedule of every couple of weeks when the cat hair had covered every surface. Then I married.  With that marriage I inherited another fur ball and a husband who also doesn’t have the cleaning gene. He’s a wonderful man, a great gardener, and talented chef, but has no interest in cleaning. The longer hubby and our three cat kids were together, the messier the house.

Enter my new best friend. I’ve been lusting after a Roomba since they first appeared on the market. (Did I tell you I LOVE gadgets?) In case you don’t know, Roomba is a vacuum cleaning robot. Mine is the Model 560, the 5th generation of these machines. This morning it cleaned the bathroom floor. As I am writing, he is cleaning the living room.  At first I wasn’t getting much done because I ended up watching Roomie glide back and forth across the room. Even though I still can’t believe how he works, I can now do other things while he’s cleaning.

Puddin with Roomie
Puddin with Roomie

If you are a clean freak and expect him to be perfect, he’s not for you. He can’t get under some of our furniture, but the items he does, including the bed and dressers, are places I rarely would vacuum.  He spends about 25 minutes in a room. When he is finished he returns to his dock. However, sometimes he might not be able to find his dock. This happened in the bedroom. He wore himself out trying to find it. When I came home I found him hiding under the bed! Another time he just quit under the dining room table. After pushing his button, a female voice instructed me to clean her brushes! Now, to save him from stopping in the midst of cleaning, I clean his brushes after each room. It’s simple, takes just a couple minutes, and is well worth the time spent considering all he does for me. Also, since he cleans the floors, that frees me up to do the other work or play.

Now, if I could just find something that would do the dusting and the sinks! Oh, I hear him calling. He must be finished in the living room and back to his dock for a well-deserved break. Think I’ll see if he feels like working on this room after lunch. What a friend!