I’ve just been patronised by my toothbrush.
My new hi-tech toothbrush links to an app on my phone and it has just given me a medal for doing so well.
Emma Raducanu deserved a medal for winning the US open, our Olympians deserved all their medals. I do not deserve a medal for cleaning my teeth. Perhaps next week I’ll get a degree, a BSc in teeth cleaning.
I have not been aware of talking toothbrushes since Max Bygraves sang about a blue toothbrush and a pink toothbrush.
Today, the song would be inappropriate as it contains gender stereotypes. Why can’t a girl toothbrush be blue?
I then get an email saying that, as I bought this toothbrush I might be interested in another toothbrush.
How many times should I clean my teeth? Apart from being bullied I’m happy with my toothbrush. I don’t need another one.
We recently had to replace a tap which had broken.
For the last few months I kept getting emails saying that, as I enjoyed my last tap, would I like any more?
No, it’s fine. It starts the water when I turn it on and stops when I turn it off. That’s what I want from a tap. I don’t have a tap fetish, collecting hundreds of taps and hiding them in my attic.
Am I the only person who finds this irritating?
Are we going to see an explosion of household gadgets that nag me and make judgements?
I already have Alexa to turn my lights on and off, clearly much easier than the highly complicated action of pressing a switch.
It has the added problem that the grandchildren also have Alexa. When we’re on the phone they shout “Alexa light off” and we’re plunged into darkness.
Maybe the toilet will soon be able to speak.
A woman’s voice will say: “Put the seat down.” Will I get a medal if I remember?
Is my comb going to ask: “Why bother, you’ve not got enough hair to comb?”
Are we going to be nagged into a healthy lifestyle?
Will my fridge say: “Do you really need that piece of cheese you’ve just nicked?” It may add: “You’re a naughty boy. I’ll tell the bathroom scales.”
The frying pan may ask why I’m not using the grill. Perhaps I’ll end up with a smart belt: “Wow, I’m having to work much harder since you ate that burger. I’d be much happier if you ate more salads.”
Even my car keeps telling me the bleed’n obvious. As I put it into reverse it tells me “Look! Safe to move?”
Sorry, car, I had thought of reversing out at high speed with my eyes closed.
I now read that Apple are developing iPhone technology that will diagnose depression from how I type.
It can also look at my facial expression to assess my mood although it may not take too much hi-tech to see that sometimes I wish could go back to my old Nokia that just did phone calls.
The favourite conversation among us Brits is the weather but now if I ask anyone, they look at their phones.
Have you tired looking out of the window? Maybe we’ll all stand in the rain getting wet looking at the phone.
“No. My weather app says it’s not raining and so I must be perfectly dry. Any water dribbling down my neck is my imagination. I’d better check my phone to see why I’m suffering from these delusions.”
There are going to be Pilates along with other keep fit apps.
So, when I sit down to watch TV with a beer my phone will tell me to lie on the floor with knee folds or the plank.
I’ve heard some conspiracy theories claiming MI5 monitor our smart phones.
They must look at my life and become suspicious. No one is that boring.
There must be something there. I can prove I’m not a spy, just ask my toothbrush.
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