An Open Apology:

Dear iRobot Scooba Steve, my vacuuming/mopping floor Robot:

I cannot convey the shame and regret I feel for the grievous injury I caused your fragile pressure pump port. Scooba Steve, I'm so sorry. Will you forgive me?

Will iRobot cover this machine crippling harm for no charge, and will they pay shipping and handling?

Alas! Alack the day! Were I to get all theatrical, I'd cry something along the lines of, "Oh happy dagger, this is thy sheath! Thus rust there and let me die!" And then I'd stab myself in the chest for breaking that tiny plastic nob, around which I'm supposed to get the baby-snot-sucker-cum-pressure pump for your tiny, intricate, interconnected pressure system, which, apparently, when snapped off in a fit of, "WHY AREN'T YOU WASHING MY FLOOR, STEVE!?!? DO YOU NEED TO BE PUMPED OR SOMETHING!?" renders you completely unable to do anything: neither washing, nor vacuuming, nor getting caught in that one corner for half an hour, time, after time, after time, after time.

I don't know what I'm going to do while you're out of commission. Wallow in my own dust-bunnies and sand, I suppose. I give off a lot of fur, so I imagine within the week, I won't even need to buy Flor modular carpeting to go under the sofa that's being delivered on Friday, as my chest hair will provide all the carpeting I need, both on my chest, and on my floor.

Again, Scooba Steve, I'm sorry your crucial components are so cheaply made, and unfit for their intended purpose (i.e. having a piece of thick, yet floopy and unwieldly plastic stretched over it, to pump you full of air, causing you to be capable to vacuum and wash my floor) that they break upon ordinary use. I'm especially sorry I broke them, and now have to send you God-Knows-Where for repairs.

Do you forgive me?

Lovingly, yet resentfully,

Me.