Can’t Wait to Get My Personal Drone
Recently my youngest child started driving, (Note to self: increase meds) and sometimes I feel my teenagers don’t need me anymore. Then I get the calls from school.
“Can you bring my cleats?”
“Can you go buy a journal for my English class and bring it to school? I didn’t buy one this weekend because Heather and Josh broke up. I had to help her, Mom. It’s not my fault.”
“Can you pleeeeeese bring Chick-fil-a for my advisory group in 30 minutes?”
“Can you bring my Friday Dress clothes? It’s not my fault that I forgot!” (umm . . . because Friday came on a different day this week?)
And my favorite:
Teen: “Mom, can you bring my tennis shoes because it’s raining and now practice is gonna be in the gym.”
Me: “I told you to take your tennis shoes this morning because of the rainy forecast . . . and you chose not to.”
Teen: “Mom! Oh my gosh! I can’t control the weather! It’s not my fault!”
Maybe my teens still need me. But I think they just need a personal drone. Amazon is researching using drones to transport packages. I could’ve used one last week to deliver a soccer jersey thirty miles away when “someone” forgot it and “someone” was going bat-crazy and it “Absolutely, Positively” had to be there in fifteen minutes.
One day drones will accomplish our everyday tasks, leaving humans enormously fulfilled. (Kind of like when scientists discovered Sudoku)
I can’t wait for a “Mom Drone.” It’ll bring me my morning coffee in bed, find cute cat videos, and praise my pizza puffs. And of course a Social Security drone will monitor a teen's social interactions because I think we can all agree that if you believe there’s such a thing as a “trustworthy teenager,” you’re an oxymoron. (Just kidding, kids!)
Drones will also help you live longer because they’ll undo all the kids’ behaviors that drive you to your grave. For example, on long car trips with preschoolers, a drone will be assigned to each kid. When a child becomes fussy, the drone will be programmed to practice soothing techniques from a Level 1—humming an up-beat tune, to a DEFCON Level 1—strapping them to the luggage rack. (Of course, in their carseats. What kind of reckless monster do you think I am?)
Additionally, drones will rescue marriages by neutralizing a spouse’s annoying habits—drones will shut dresser drawers, re-adjust the thermostat, and remove clothes draped over the treadmill and hair from the freaking shower soap.
They will also benefit spousal communication. A husband will speak into the drone and it will translate a card-carrying Martian husband’s annoying carping about “Why the heck can’t you bring the trash cans up from the curb?” into a sweet, Venus-esque suggestion about bringing the trash cans up from the curb and how you looked especially beautiful this morning and why do you even wear makeup?” If I heard messages like that, I’d be happier and he’d get luckier—a win-win.
Imagine how the divorce rate would drop. Lawyers would no longer be needed, except to handle Mesothelioma cases.
Since people would be less stressed, most psychiatrists would go out of business too. I’d hate to see folks lose their jobs, but as long as I can still get my meds . . .
As you can plainly see, using drones in the household will have fantastic benefits. For one, I’ll have a lot more time for Sudoku.