Yesterday, my birthday gift Clocky arrived.
So I did what any normal adult would do. I immediately put everything aside (including dinner) and opened the box, only to find out that my "white" Clocky is, in fact, a bizarrely uneven shade of almond. Before you go accusing me of timepiece discrimination, bear in mind that most modern design doesn't come in "almond," it comes in "white." So I was a little thrown by that, but whatever. Moving on.
A quick perusal of the instructions later, I realized that I would have to welcome Clocky into my home via an uncomfortable, yet necessary, battery suppository session. It included teeny screwdrivers and undoing Clocky's butt. Sorry, Clocky. It also called for 4 AAA batteries, which MIRACLE OF MIRACLES I actually had in the house. Well, if you want to get technical, I had the batteries in the fridge.
What? You don't keep your batteries in the refrigerator? That's not what the butter-slash-leftoverfastfoodcondimentpackages-slash-battery area is for? (In truth, I know the fridge doesn't do anything to extend battery life, but I'm a creature of habit, and I don't have a junk drawer, so you organized people out there can just stuff it)
A mere ten minutes later, I had tested the alarm noise but not the rolling motion. I felt I probably wouldn't be able to handle both at once, thus the effectiveness of Clocky's design. I would candidly describe the alarm as "R2-D2 on crack." It doesn't really beep so much, it mostly just makes this GODAWFUL noise like someone is strangling an adolescent robot beneath your bed. Or something. The noise alone was enough to make the dog very curious. To wit:
Then I tested out the rolling PLUS the alarm. Turns out Clocky is fairly capable of traveling away from his jumping off point. On his inaugural journey, he made it about 10 feet. He also spent some of that travel time furiously spinning in circles, much like the hyperactive pomeranian owned by Sean's former landlord. Doc was less than thrilled to find out that Clocky is both loud AND ambulatory. He did what any dog might do - he attacked Clocky.
Once I stopped laughing long enough to rescue Clocky, I put him next to the bed. I'll have to set him somewhere else each night, as his vertical limits max out at 3 feet. But until tomorrow, when he officially becomes my only alarm clock, he looks comfy resting on the windowsill/nightstand next to my bed.
Welcome home, Clocky.
So I did what any normal adult would do. I immediately put everything aside (including dinner) and opened the box, only to find out that my "white" Clocky is, in fact, a bizarrely uneven shade of almond. Before you go accusing me of timepiece discrimination, bear in mind that most modern design doesn't come in "almond," it comes in "white." So I was a little thrown by that, but whatever. Moving on.
A quick perusal of the instructions later, I realized that I would have to welcome Clocky into my home via an uncomfortable, yet necessary, battery suppository session. It included teeny screwdrivers and undoing Clocky's butt. Sorry, Clocky. It also called for 4 AAA batteries, which MIRACLE OF MIRACLES I actually had in the house. Well, if you want to get technical, I had the batteries in the fridge.
What? You don't keep your batteries in the refrigerator? That's not what the butter-slash-leftoverfastfoodcondimentpackages-slash-battery area is for? (In truth, I know the fridge doesn't do anything to extend battery life, but I'm a creature of habit, and I don't have a junk drawer, so you organized people out there can just stuff it)
A mere ten minutes later, I had tested the alarm noise but not the rolling motion. I felt I probably wouldn't be able to handle both at once, thus the effectiveness of Clocky's design. I would candidly describe the alarm as "R2-D2 on crack." It doesn't really beep so much, it mostly just makes this GODAWFUL noise like someone is strangling an adolescent robot beneath your bed. Or something. The noise alone was enough to make the dog very curious. To wit:
Then I tested out the rolling PLUS the alarm. Turns out Clocky is fairly capable of traveling away from his jumping off point. On his inaugural journey, he made it about 10 feet. He also spent some of that travel time furiously spinning in circles, much like the hyperactive pomeranian owned by Sean's former landlord. Doc was less than thrilled to find out that Clocky is both loud AND ambulatory. He did what any dog might do - he attacked Clocky.
Once I stopped laughing long enough to rescue Clocky, I put him next to the bed. I'll have to set him somewhere else each night, as his vertical limits max out at 3 feet. But until tomorrow, when he officially becomes my only alarm clock, he looks comfy resting on the windowsill/nightstand next to my bed.
Welcome home, Clocky.
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