It was reported last month that a South Korean woman asleep on the floor of her apartment woke to find her robot vacuum cleaner trying to suck up her head. Trapped by the hair and in extreme pain, the 52-year-old managed to call the emergency services. It took two paramedics to free her, and, more than likely, an extremely skilled hairdresser to help her to recover fully.
I have followed the genesis of the robot vacuum cleaner — a small disc on wheels that collects dust and debris of its own accord — with keen interest. As attached as I am to my hair (and vice versa), if there is any chance that a device can guarantee me a chore-free future, I’m willing to take my chances.
So, when Vileda introduced its Cleaning Robot for £149.99 — in the past such machines have been far pricier — I was interested. But would it really work? If it did, surely everyone would have one.
I put my labour-saving dream to the test — and it had its work cut out. A baking session with my four-year-old son,Ellis, and the fact that I’m five months pregnant and even less inclined to vacuum than usual, meant — let’s put this nicely — optimum test conditions prevailed.
Ellis was delighted with the robot as soon as he yanked it out of its box. He told me that it was now best friends with the iPad. His fingers were magnetised by the large buttons on top of the machine: S, M and L, which you press depending on the size of your room (a short cycle for five minutes’ spot-cleaning of one area; medium for a 30-minute vacuum, and large for 60 minutes). Ellis hit the M button and watched in wonder as the robot began to patrol the wooden floor of our kitchen.
Advertisement
A running commentary ensued, John McCririck-style — “It’s going under the table!”; “it’s not going under the table!”; “it’s stuck!”; “it’s escaped!” — punctuated by questions, most of them centred on whether the robot could fly. Soon, it found itself dust-busting with three toy penguins on its back.
It cannot fly, but it can suck up dirt, though several patches of stray desiccated coconut from our baking were still visible. As far as I can tell, this is because of furniture: the robot wants to work in systematic ever-increasing circles, but each time it hits a piece of furniture, skirting board or four-year-old foot, it veers off in a different direction, so not every area of floor is covered.
I suspect we would get far better at moving stuff out of the way, though once you’ve spent five minutes preparing the room for the robot you begin to wonder why you didn’t just sweep it yourself. Certainly, looking at it chugging away for 30 minutes on your kitchen floor seems a waste of the world’s energy resources, not to mention your time.
And yet, it’s one less thing to do — and cleaning a wooden floor is easy. More useful is the help it provides vacuuming carpet. I suspect pet owners, battling daily against stray hairs, will find this product most useful.
I also now realise that my expectations have been too high: according to Vileda, the Cleaning Robot isn’t designed to replace the weekly — or, let’s be honest — fortnightly deep-vacuum that you have to administer merely to gobble up the bits of everyday life you create.
Advertisement
It feels like a product in its early, imperfect stages, but when Ellis is an adult I have no doubt this will be the way he will be (not) vacuuming — with better robots that seize on every last piece of coconut. Provided he doesn’t sleep on the floor, the future is bright and dust-free.
Dust busters
• Neato XV Signature Pro, £349.98,amazon.co.uk
• i-Robot Roomba 650 Vacuum Cleaner, £379.95,johnlewis.com
• Samsung VR9000 Cordless Robot Vacuum Cleaner, £699.99,argos.co.uk