All I wanted for Christmas was a drone. Nothing highfalutin, mind you, just a basic gizmo to accomplish much-needed tasks around the house. I found some online for less than $100.
My husband failed to grasp my important reasons for wanting one, which is why Santa was a disappointing no-show. My mate, such a fossil!
Why the big push for a drone? That is a good question and one that I am happy to answer, even if it entails airing some extremely dirty laundry. Pull up a chair.
Airing No. 1: Now that my husband and I are empty-nesters and the judgmental eyes of our children are no longer monitoring our every move, we have relaxed our eating manners to Neanderthal-like levels, especially when it comes to snacking. To give but one example, we have a giant bag of popcorn in our pantry that we access frequently throughout the day. Most times, we reach in and stuff a lion’s share in our mouth, never even considering the benefit of a bowl. Other times, we reach in and fill our palm to the brim before we head wherever it is we plan to go in the house, dropping little kernels along the way. While our uncouth snacking is convenient to boot — and, I might add, quite helpful when trying to locate someone within the house — it is a housekeeper’s nightmare. Indeed, our floors, couches, bed, bathrooms and shower stalls are loaded with tiny popcorn bits, bits that we can’t be bothered to collect. A drone with tiny talons could help us with this task.
Airing No. 2: We have white kitchen cabinets that show every drip and drop of someone’s hasty, careless consumption habits, from long dribbles of coffee and big splashes of salsa to sinewy streams of egg yolk. No surprise, it’s always the other person’s fault. “Look what you did,” “Me? No way, that was you.” “But I don’t drink pasta sauce from the jar.” Honestly, the back-and-forth is maddening. A drone with surveillance cameras could end these squabbles.
Airing No. 3: I love my cat. I do. But she produces outputs that could peel the paint off the Eiffel Tower from across the pond. We’re talking “raw-shrimp-left-in-a-hot-dumpster” bad. Seriously. My eyes tear up just thinking about going toward those c-bombs. I’m weeping now. It’s why I, it’s why I rarely, oh, for sanity’s sake, it’s why I need a drone.
Airing No. 4: What did you do with the remote? Who took my keys? Where did you put my glasses? Why did you hide my left sock? Aye yi yi. Neither of us can ever find anything anymore, and we are always accusing the other of taking whatever the item is. A drone could help us look for misplaced items while we watched from the comfort of our couch. “Oh, golly, look what the drone found, honey, our daughter’s pet hamster from the ‘90s. It sure has gotten mighty thin.”
See? See why I desperately need a drone? And I haven’t even broached the benefit — make that, the thrilling benefit — of spying on neighbors.
Anne Palumbo writes this column for Messenger Post newspapers. Her email is