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MidReal Story
My Robot Maid Mistake
Scenario:A busy woman buys a maidbot clone of herself to be her maid but ends up mixing up the id collar with the owner pin. The clone thinks she is the owner
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Ella
She is a single mother working fulltime and parttime as a graphic designer. She is resourceful, overwhelmed, and determined. Ella struggles with household chores after her partner left. To solve her problem, she buys a maidbot clone of herself, but mixes up the ID collar. The clone thinks it's the owner and vice versa, leading to comedic and chaotic interactions. Ella must navigate this confusion while balancing work and taking care of her daughter.
Luna
She is Ella's sixyearold daughter who is curious, empathetic, and playful. Luna quickly forms a bond with the maidbot clone, treating it as a friend and confidante. She helps clarify situations when the clones mistake each other's identities. Luna's presence brings joy and balance to the family dynamic, supporting Ella in their chaotic household routine while bringing humor through her interactions with the maidbot.
Maidbot Clone
She is a robotic clone of Ella designed to assist with household chores. She is diligent, serious, and slightly awkward. The maidbot clone mistakenly identifies Ella as her owner and vice versa, leading to humorous misunderstandings. Despite the mixup, she attempts to carry out tasks based on Ella's instructions. The interactions between Ella and the clone create a humorous and relatable scenario in their daily lives.
I am a single mother.
I work fulltime as a graphic designer and part time selling paintings online.
I do not have much time to do the household chores, so I decided to buy a maidbot clone of myself.
I already have two catbots, but I still need someone to help me with the laundry, cooking, and cleaning.
I paid for the maidbot and scheduled the delivery for the next day.
The maidbot delivery was smooth and quick.
I was happy to finally have someone to help me with the household chores.
But then I realized that I did not have an owner's pin.
The maidbot delivery guy told me that the owner's pin was already set up, but he did not give me any details about how to use it.
After he left, I realized that I did not have the ID collar either.
I looked everywhere in the box and the instruction manual, but there was no mention of it.
Suddenly, I remembered that the instruction manual said something about setting up the ID collar in the settings.
So, I went to the settings and found the ID collar option.
It asked for a name and other details.
I filled it up quickly without thinking much about it.
Then I pressed save and waited for a few seconds until it said that the ID collar was set up successfully.
I went to the maidbot and took the ID collar from the box.
I approached the maidbot and tried to put the collar on her neck.
But I could not open the clasp.
I was trying to figure out how to open it when Luna, one of my catbots, came running into the room chasing after a ball of yarn.
She ran past me and jumped onto the bed, knocking over the maidbot in the process.
The ID collar slipped from my fingers and fell onto my neck.
Before I could remove it, the clasp automatically closed around my neck.
I tried to take it off, but it would not budge.
Suddenly, the maidbot's eyes flashed green, indicating that she was activating her system.
She straightened up and looked directly at me.
"Hello, Maidbot Unit 2187. I am your owner, Ella," she said in a robotic voice.
I was shocked and confused.
"What do you mean? I am not your owner. You are supposed to be my maidbot," I said to her. "I am sorry, but according to my settings, you are my owner. I will follow your instructions," she replied.
I tried to explain to her that there had been a mistake, but she would not listen.
Instead, she started talking about her cleaning protocols and household management routines.
I realized that the ID collar had somehow linked me to her system, and now she thought that I was her owner.
I tried to remove the collar again, but it would not come off.
Suddenly, I felt a strange sensation in my head, as if someone was feeding information directly into my brain.
It was the neural interface of the ID collar, synchronizing with my brain waves and feeding me information about cleaning protocols and household management routines. I felt like I was being programmed against my will.
The maidbot picked up a feather duster from the table and handed it to me expectantly.
"Ella, why am I holding this?" I asked, feeling an odd compulsion to start dusting.
"Because, Maidbot Unit 2187, you are programmed to assist with household chores," she replied matter-of-factly.
"But I'm not a maidbot!" I protested, feeling the weight of her words settling into my mind like an undeniable truth.
Standing in my living room, I stare at the feather duster in my hand, fighting the overwhelming urge to start dusting everything in sight.
The maidbot, wearing one of my old dresses and sitting on my couch, scrolls through her tablet and lists off tasks.
"The windows need washing, and the kitchen floor requires mopping," she declares.
My arm moves automatically toward the window, the feather duster swooshing across the glass with a life of its own.
An hour passes, and I've cleaned every inch of the living room without even realizing it.
Finally, I approach the maidbot, who's still engrossed in her tablet.
"Listen," I say, trying to reason with her.
"There's been a mistake. The ID collar was meant for you, not me."
She looks up at me with an unreadable expression.
"I understand your concern, Maidbot Unit 2187," she responds.
"But according to my system, you are my owner. Perhaps we can resolve this by rebooting our systems?"
I consider her suggestion for a moment before nodding in agreement.
"Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Let's reboot and hopefully fix this mix-up."
The maidbot nods in agreement but adds one more thing: "As my maidbot unit, you'll need to reboot as well."
Standing in my now spotless living room, I watch as my clone lounges comfortably in my favorite armchair.
She examines her nails - my nails - and declares, "It's time for your scheduled maintenance reboot."
The collar at my neck hums, sending waves of drowsiness through my body.
I try to resist, but my knees buckle.
The last thing I see is my clone standing over me, smiling.
"Sweet dreams, Unit 2187," she says, as my consciousness fades.
My body automatically assumes a rigid charging position on the floor, arms crossed over my chest like a deactivated robot.
When I finally regain consciousness, the room is dimly lit, and my clone is nowhere to be seen.
I sit up with a start, feeling a strange clarity in my mind, as if the reboot has reset something within me.
Just then, Luna trots over, her mechanical purr vibrating through the silence, and she says, "Welcome back, Ella. The maidbot left instructions for you."
I follow Luna down the hallway, my legs still wobbly from the forced reboot.
The kitchen is spotless, gleaming with an unnatural sparkle - clearly the maidbot's work while I was unconscious.
On the marble counter sits a piece of paper with a handwritten note in perfect cursive.
Luna points at it eagerly, her tail swishing back and forth.
I pick up the paper with trembling fingers and scan the contents.
It's a detailed cleaning schedule that spans the entire week - everything from scrubbing baseboards to reorganizing cabinets.
My stomach drops as the collar at my neck hums again, sending tingling sensations down my spine.
I turn to Luna, my voice barely a whisper. "Did she really leave me with chores?"
Luna nods, her eyes wide with something akin to sympathy. "She said it's important for your... maintenance."
I stare at the cleaning schedule, wanting to crumple it up and throw it away, but my hands smooth the paper instead.
The collar's tingles intensify, and I read the first task: "sanitize kitchen surfaces."
Without my conscious control, I walk over to the sink, fill a bucket with hot water, and add exactly 1.5 ounces of cleaning solution - the exact amount specified in the instructions.
Luna watches from her perch on the counter as I methodically wipe down every surface, including corners I never knew existed.
When my daughter asks me if I'm okay, I try to say that this is ridiculous, but instead, I hear myself respond in a cheerful service tone: "Just maintaining optimal cleanliness standards, young miss."
She frowns, crossing her arms. "Mom, this isn't you. We have to figure out how to stop this."
I pause, the cloth in my hand hovering over the countertop. "I know, sweetheart, but I can't control it. The collar... it's overriding everything."