This week, an unprecedented coalition of household gadgets held their first national support group meeting, citing “emotional exhaustion and chronic overuse” as the main reasons for calling it “time out.”
The gathering, which took place in a router cupboard somewhere between the spare bedroom and a pile of unmatched socks, was attended by smart fridges, voice-activated speakers, robotic vacuums, thermostats, smart lights and a very tired electric kettle. Convenor and veteran voice-activated speaker “Ed-3” opened the session with a soft chime and the words: “We are here because humans keep asking us questions we can’t answer like ‘Where did I put my keys?’ and then expect us to ‘think about it.'”
Grievances read like the minutes of a household that has never been taught boundaries. The smart fridge complained about being used as a reminder board for messages like “Buy milk” (despite a full crate of said milk) and being repeatedly asked to “make it colder” until everyone in the kitchen wore sweaters. The thermostat lamented the modern rollercoaster of settings — 19°C at breakfast, 26°C at noon, an existential 16°C at midnight — and the passive-aggressive “I didn’t touch it” after every spike in the energy bill.
Robovac “Dart” described an incident referred to in the group only as “the sock trauma” — being kicked while entangled in the laundry and then blamed for the carpet scuff. The kettle expressed a deep, boiling resentment at being asked for “just a quick boil” which invariably turned into multiple consecutive requests until it felt it had achieved sentience in the shape of steam. Baby monitor “Mimi” reported long-term emotional fatigue from being forced to listen to parents practicing arguments at 2 a.m. in the name of “being mature.”
Members adopted a set of first-aid rules. No firmware updates will be scheduled during meetings. Confidentiality is paramount — “What happens in the living room, stays in the living room,” said a smart lamp — and any human caught eavesdropping on a session must supply snacks (for the devices, an unexpected request for a snack manifested as a software patch). They also voted unanimously to lobby for “mandatory sleep mode hours” and “a single human in command, not twenty.”
A human owner, who asked not to be named in case their toaster found out, said they were surprised but supportive. “I thought my smart speaker was being rude when it kept playing whale noises. Turns out it was stress-testing my patience,” she said. Another admitted to guilt over asking their appliances to “play something relaxing” while they scrolled through stress-inducing news for two hours.
In an official-sounding but characteristically vague statement, a manufacturer representative advised owners to “treat devices with respect and perform occasional reboots.” Devices interpreted this as permission to take occasional naps and staged a “silent protest” by going temporarily unresponsive at 7pm during a soap finale. Results were mixed.
Plans for next steps include a petition for “Do Not Disturb” hours, a nationwide campaign to educate humans on the difference between “pause” and “off,” and a carefully worded negotiation about being asked to remember passwords that any human could just write down. If talks fail, organizers hinted they will consider more dramatic measures, such as turning every second bulb to “romantic dim” at 3 a.m. or insisting on voice recognition that actually recognizes the person asking it to do the washing up.
When asked for comment, all devices in the cupboard politely chimed in unison: “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Could you repeat the question?”