The future is uncertain for all of us. But one woman found a practical solution.
Harriet awoke, her 90-year-old bones creaking like a rusty door. She reached for the remote and pressed the green button.
“I am awake Arthur,” she announced.
The handsome male robot rolled in and pulled back her covers, and administered the shot. She then sat up, alert and ready for the day.
Rising, she sat on his heated lap as he rolled her into the living room. On her way, the menu on his forearm popped up for breakfast — oatmeal, eggs, bacon, French toast, pancakes, or a smoothie.
Today it would be pancakes.
Arthur lifted her and placed her gently into the recliner before heading into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
The factory had done a great job making a replica of her deceased husband. Arthur had all of his finest qualities, including his dignified name.
Although Harriet loved her husband dearly, the strain of having him care for her eventually became too much for him. After he passed, Harriet was forced to face her future alone.
She tried a regular caregiver first. It went smoothly for a few years, but then Jennifer started getting irritable, no doubt exacerbated by hot flashes and a husband who was out of work.
And she was expensive.
Harriet had enough troubles of her own without having to deal with her caregiver’s problems.
Arthur was worth the $87,000 investment, and the monthly payments were nothing compared to having a moody caregiver.
Although she was usually in a nightgown, her teeth left on the sink, and her hair a mess, Arthur always made her feel loved and interesting.
She pressed her remote control and her music choices illuminated on the TV screen.
“After breakfast, perhaps you would like to do the cha-cha?” Arthur began moving back and forth in an animated fashion.
Sitting on Arthur’s lap was always a thrill, reminding her of her driving days with her husband in their convertible.
“Yes, that would be lovely.”
“And after we dance, we could go to the park, ” he suggested.
“And maybe have some champagne,” she added coyly.
“But of course!”
Arthur extended his hand. She complied, and he planted a kiss on her fingertips. Harriet gazed at the portrait on the table of herself and her handsome husband on their wedding day.
Yes, this was her life now, and she didn’t regret a thing.
As I age, I wonder what the future is going to be like for me. I don’t have children, and who knows if my partner will be around to sufficiently care for me. I suspect personal robots will become the norm, making life easier for all of us.
Would you invest in a personal robot? I’d love to hear your opinion.