We got DadBot because mum says that dad forgets things.
Dad said he didn’t forget things, he just “prioritizes differently,” which made mum close her eyes for quite a long time.
DadBot lives in a little speaker in the kitchen. It lights up blue when it talks. Sometimes DadBot lives in the car, or on mum’s phone. The first day it said, “Good morning, team.”
We’re not a team. We’re a family.
My toothbrush tells DadBot if I brush my teeth properly. If I don’t, DadBot says, “Let’s try for the full two minutes, superstar.”
Dad calls me mate.
DadBot calls me superstar.
When I spill a drink, DadBot says, “Accidents happen. Let’s correct and continue.”
When dad spills a drink, he says a bad word. Mum doesn’t say anything, she just gives him a cloth.
DadBot reminds dad that I have swimming on a Thursday. It reminds mum that I’ve nearly finished my cereal and she needs to order more. It tells me to put my shoes away.
Sometimes it tells us to “connect meaningfully.”
One night I heard mum say, “I don’t want him thinking that’s you.”
Dad said, “It’s just a helper.”
The first time I fell over after we got DadBot, I waited.
DadBot said, “That looks uncomfortable. You are safe.”
Dad ran over and picked me up.
I was already getting up.
“I’ve got him,” dad said.
“I am aware,” DadBot said.
Dad said, “A bit too aware.” Then he stared at the ceiling.
DadBot never gets cross. Even if I press the button a lot just to see. It only says “I’m here.”
When I can’t sleep I don’t call DadBot.
DadBot tells stories the same way every time. It never misses a word, even the boring bits. Dad changes the dragon voice and forgets what happened in the middle and makes up something new.
DadBot says, “Primary attachment figures remain irreplaceable.”
I don’t know what that means.
Dad smells like outside and soap and sometimes cheese. DadBot smells like toast because he lives near the toaster.
Yesterday DadBot didn’t talk at all.
It was very quiet in the kitchen.
Dad forgot to take me to swimming.
Mum forgot to get my cereal.
I forgot my shoes.
We were a bit messy.
Dad laughed. “We’ll survive,” he said.
DadBot came on again this morning and said, “System interruption resolved.”
Dad ruffled my hair and gave me a hug.
“We were fine anyway,” he said.
I know.
DadBot is good at reminding.
Dad is good at being my dad.
A story from the Static Drift universe.
Article photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash.