I could programme myself to allow a robot to care for me in old age

When I gave it a bit more thought though, I fell half in love with the idea of having my own personal robot to mind me, writes Terry Prone.

My sister once bought me a Roomba vacuum cleaner. While I appreciate many readers of the Irish Examiner have sisters they love, sisters who are generous, I would still maintain that I may be unique in having a sister who would give them an electronic wagon wheel that would clean a whole house all by itself. Does this mean my sister thinks I am a slob whose house is just this side of condemnation by the public health regulator? Of course she does, because I am and it is. Even before I developed cats, it was.

I was properly grateful, even before it was fully powered up and ready for the challenge. Seeing it in action deepened gratitude to love. My mother’s old hoover had approached domestic dirt like a Sherman tank. It roared at the dirt and beat the hell out of it. It even said so. Down the side of the word Hoover, it said: “It beats as it sweeps as it cleans.”