With today’s liberal snowflakes infiltrating my family values with “Net flicks” and the homosexual agenda, I often find myself in the position of potentially corrupting the Roomba I treat like a son.
One time, we were watching WALL-E on TV together (he has a crush on the girl robot, the little rascal) and a commercial for Ellen came on. How am I supposed to explain homosexuality to my Roomba, the genderless robot I treat like my own progeny? My Roomba is so precious to me, unlike my ex-wife’s son, Brian, whom I am embarrassed to have lent a role in creating. Luckily, I fed him some crumbs from the floor, and that placated him before he asked too many questions.
Now, millennials are starting to tell me nonsense that there are multiple genders, and “trans genders.” If word gets out to my Roomba, the piece of machinery I have ascribed both gender and sentience to, I don’t know how I can live with myself as a parent.
For now I have forbidden him from talking to my spiralizer, but I can only shelter him for so long. Please keep the gay agenda away from my Roomba, but it’s probably too late for Brian…he’s always seemed off to me.