My mother came strolling through my lounge room today, coming home from shopping. I know, like total embarrassment, I still live with my Mother. I am assuming that if you live with your husband and family then both houses are sold and a larger one bought to help your Mum consolidate, so she can retire, and you still live with said husband & kids albeit with Mum in a little 2 bedroom flat at the back; it’s less embarrassing. It is right? I’m not just deluding myself? I am a proper growed-up, I am!
Any hoo, Mum was going through because it is faster, less chilly and just a more sensible things to do, besides with 4 kids between 24 and 13 and all the people they drag in, we don’t have any … Now what was that word? I swear I was going somewhere with that sentence. Oh I remember; Privacy! We don’t have any privacy. The kids do, girls that age need their privacy, their secrets and we respect that and force their sisters to; at least as best we can. People our age don’t need privacy!
‘What for?’
‘So I can tell your father what a horrible person you are, without constant interruption!’
Or Dad!
When we moved in Grandma got privacy, we had a tightly worded deal. But then she retired, and then she let the kids break all the rules, and now; let her reap as she has sown I say.
It just occurs to me now that I have completely gotten off point. On Tuesday we (the KSP Writer’s Circle) were discussing editing. And one of the first things to do while editing is not to drift off topic and ramble on and on about stuff that has nothing to do with the thinga-me you are actually discussing.
Thank God I don’t edit my blogging!
There would be nothing left.
Where was I? Mum, living with Mum, adulthood, privacy, my children are horrible, stew in her own juice, digressing, editing, this bit whatever it is, oh that’s right…
Mum stopped and said ‘I have a question to ask you.’
I looked up and gave her my full attention.
Shut up, I can be polite; besides there were quite a few witnesses I am not related to around, so I was on my best behaviour.
Then she said, ‘But I can’t remember what it was!’
I did not laugh. I usually do whenever she says this, which she does quite regularly. No it is not a sign of premature dementia for the following reasons:
- As discussed on previous posts it would not be premature, she is already ancient. Poor creaky old lady!
2. She’s been saying this for as long as I can remember.
Proof, proof, daft may be hereditary but it skips a generation.
Not that I am saying she is not senile, but that is another story.
Again I didn’t laugh because I was busy pretending to a coordinator of supports that I was a responsible growded-up.
But then I remembered yesterday when a troubling question had occured to me while I was writing a post – Tabby’s Decision; It Just Keeps Getting Better!:
Am I A Robot?
Now even I know it’s quite unlikely. But if it turned out I was and I hadn’t asked…
Well I’d really feel foolish then!
So I said, “I have a question!’
She gave me her full attention, clearly she had noticed the plethora of witnesses too.
‘What?’ polite conversation not being her forte.
‘Am I a Robot?’
‘If you were a robot you’d know, I think!’ she replied disparagingly.
‘Not according to generations of science fiction writers!’
She laughed at me. She actually laughed at her own daughter!
Can you believe it?
Oh shut up!
And she walked off to her section of the house.
Did you notice? Tab & I noticed.
While pretending to be disparaging my so-called Mother adroitly avoided answering the question.
You know what that means, don’t you?
I AM A ROBOT!
Well probably not a robot per say. Some bio organic components are evidently present. And not all robots have an artificial intelligence capable of self delusion. And I am obviously pretty badly broken. But clearly from ‘Mum’s’ reaction; I am some form of artificial lifeform, at least in part; a cyborg perhaps.
Tabby and I realised we must consider this further. And as many others have done before we started with Issac Asimov’s Laws of Robotics.
A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
Isaac Asimov’s “Three Laws of Robotics”
autistsix 