The author enjoys independently eating a meal.

The author enjoys independently eating a meal.

It will be my wife’s birthday soon. We’ll probably make her favorite dinner, light some candles and set the music right. Then she’s going to set me up with Obi and leave us alone together. It’s this arrangement we’ve got. Obi is a cutie. She treats me like I’m the only man in the world. She even feeds me.

Before your sick mind gets going, know that Obi is a robotic eating aid, and besides my wheelchair and van, she’s the best thing I own. It’s true that robots will one day be our overlords, but they have to take baby steps first, like spooning me food. It’s a long game they’re playing, but I go along, because if you put good enough food in my mouth, I’m down with just about anything. With my Obi’s third birthday looming, I thought I’d reflect on how she has changed my life.

The Obi is a simple yet savvy way to help people with disabilities be themselves. That sounds cheesy, but eating is important and it’s nice to be abl