When I was little, our 40-year-old house felt haunted in ways only a child can believe. If anything so much as shifted or creaked on its own, I'd freeze in terror. My mother reminded me of that today, as we sat in the very same house, now older and renovated but still full of memory. She looked at the robot vacuum gliding across the floor and said, “Isn't it strange? Back then, an object moving by itself was the scariest thing. Now it's just everyday life.” In her words was the weight of a whole generation of change.