Regular readers will know that housework and I do not get on.
I don't like it and it doesn't like me.
A few years ago, my physio and rheumy told me I could legitimately get out of things like vaccumming because it was bad for my arthritis, and in particular the sacriolliac joints (which are kind of the bits around your pelvis that you need to bend when you vaccuum).
How I loved that idea, but unfortunately, I don't have one of these, do you?
Yes, clearly my hatred of all things housework has gone viral and the good people at Robomaid Australia decided to send me one to review.
Basically, you switch it on and the extremely clever Robomaid whizzes around quite happily cleaning the floors while you do something far more important like shopping for shoes, or lusting over Iphones and Ipads on the internet.
You can even switch it on when you leave the house, and the Robomaid will ensure your floors are clean when you get home.
I did try to program it to bring me coffee, but they seem to have left off that function unfortunately.
It's a tiny little package, and I honestly wasn't sure if it could tackle the pet hair, food scraps, and assorted crap left around by small humans and animals, but Robomaid is incredibly efficient, and very quiet.
The pets weren't particularly interested in it, though Mr 10 and Miss 8 quickly competed to see who could use the remote control first. (Yep, it even has one of those. Who needs toys when you have a robot vaccuum cleaner?)
You know how men often risk their marriages by giving stuff like vaccuum cleaners as presents? I think most women would forgive them one of these.
Oh, and they even go under beds and lounges and all those horrid places were mothers fear to go.
So how much do they cost?
Usually the damage is $599, but Robomaid Australia has a fantastic special for MIA followers.
The deal is AUD$419 plus shipping, a saving of 30 per cent.
For more details freecall 1800 794 191or you can order online
I'm a writer, author, journalist, blogger, and mum. I love my kids, hate housework, and would rather chew my arm off than supervise homework. Picker-upper of toys and pet poo; finder of lost things; and curser of the Sock Monster. When I grow up, I want a pony.