Free Robby the Robot

A few weeks ago Chris and I became the proud owners of a robot.

He's a cute little guy, who eats pine needles and dirt four times a week. It's pretty nice having Robby the Robot Vacuum. Until he forgets he's a robot and tries to become a 4x4 SUV and drive over the lamp post and gets himself stuck.

Or when he wants to become a top, and spins himself into a corner and gets himself stuck. Or when he thinks he's a bulldozer and tries to go through the cabinets and gets himself stuck.

I've become used to coming home from the gym and hearing him beep his sad tune, for me to free him.

Hold on, he's beeping again.

Sorry, he was stuck in a verticle position against the wall. I didn't ask questions.

As nice as it is to watch a vacuum clean my house while I sit on the couch and write the next great American Novel, there are a few rescue missions.

Robby has gotten himself stuck about once per clean, which isn't horrible, but you would really think he would learn not to go where he gets stuck. And I'm always able to free him.

Until yesterday.

While the downstairs is beautifully clean thanks to Robby, the upstairs has been neglected. Mostly because I do not want to haul the vacuum up the stairs. It rarely need to be cleaned as we are hardly up there and we rarely wear our shoes upstairs. So there isn't a real reason to clean.

Until yesterday.

Softball season began a couple weeks ago and we play on astro field with the black pellets which have been dubbed astroturds. The black pellets are everywhere.

I took off my socks in the garage and since I didn't dive onto the field I didn't think of shaking out my clothes of the black turds. Somehow, the astroturds took over the upstairs hallway and some debris made it's way onto the bedroom floor.

No worries! I can take Robby up there and he can clean! HOO-RAY!

No.

I'm fairly convinced Robby has the plan of "If I do this bad enough I will never have to do this again."

I was downstairs for about ten minutes when the distinct hum of the robot came to a stop. Followed by the most sad and depressing beeps you have ever heard.

I looked in the bedrooms and my office but couldn't find him. The beeping stopped, but he remained where he was. I looked under the guest bed, and no Robby.

I looked under our King size bed, and there he was. In the middle. Just out of reach from every direction.

Mind you, I can sprawl across the entire bed, finger tip to toe and still not quite reach the edge. Combine that with the low box springs (two twins) I cannot maneuver on my own, without damaging the freshly painted walls, and Robby was stuck.

He is on wheels so I thought I could push him out.

Nope. He is on robot wheels which only turn when he wants to turn them. A few jabs with the hockey stick and ski pole and Robby remained entrenched. The Tarheels would be proud.

I got clever. What would draw a vacuum out? Cookie crumbs!

I made a nice path out from under the bed, but Robby refused to take the bait.

I cleaned up the crumbs with the real vacuum. One, I didn't want ants and two, I was hoping to make Robby jealous. He's not the jealous type.

I tried to shimmy under the bed, but I could only get so far, and every time I went to pick him up with a hockey stick, the wheels remained on the ground and his body hit the box spring. Also, when I lifted him, there was no way for me to shimmy out.

I had a vision of Chris coming home and eventually drawn upstairs by Robby's beeps and my shouts; only to find my legs sticking out from under the bed.

Hi honey.

I have learned from my past mistakes, and I decided to call Chris at work only so he didn't come home to a crane in our backyard as I tried to free the Robot.

He was not helpful. I did give him a nice laugh for the day.

I was done playing game. I dove under the bed one last time and began pushing Robby one side at a time, causing him to walk towards me.

When he was finally at the edge I picked him up to see what was going on.

"Dust me off. I can't see." His message board said.

I placed him on the floor and hit the start button.

Seven minutes later there was another series of beeps. He had closed himself in the bathroom by closing the door on himself.

Robby you can take the downstairs, and I'll take the upstairs.

Happy?