“I need you to fix this robot!” Jules exclaimed setting up the small robot on the counter.
“What seems to be the problem with your new robot, sir?” said the store owner.
“He is too perfect and is starting to drive me crazy. I need him to be more like a real kid. More rough. More–,” Jules paused to find the right words, “more imperfect. Like a human.”
“I’m not sure I understand. The model you purchased is a perfect replica of–”
“Too perfect, I tell you. He sits straight at the table, never plays with his food, and he always looks at me with his perfect smile and perfectly combed hair. It kind of gives me the creeps to be absolutely honest.”
“That doesn’t seem that bad. Most parents would kill for a kid so well behaved.”
“Well our kid wasn’t that well behaved and this robot–as much as he looks like my son–most definitely doesn’t behave like he did. And most importantly, my wife is starting to suspect something. She even said she would take him to the doctor if he continues behaving so strangely.”
“To the doctor? Doesn’t she know?”
“Of course she doesn’t! She thinks this robot is our son. I told her time and time again,” Jules said, “it was a bad idea that she would go on a weekend trip by herself. A whole weekend that I was left alone to watch over our son. Now this is what I have to deal with.”
“I don’t think I can help you, sir.”
“No-no-no, you need to fix him up. Or unfix him. However you want to put it. You have to do this before my wife ever finds out. Don’t you see? I never had the heart to tell her I lost our son that weekend at the park, and I had to replace him with a robot!”