Okay, so… what is the NEO Home Robot? Honestly, it feels like we just jumped ten years ahead while I was still trying to remember where I kept the house keys. It’s this new humanoid robot from 1X — yeah, a real one, not sci-fi movie vibes — built in Palo Alto and Norway. They call it the NEO humanoid robot, but in normal-people talk, it’s basically a consumer humanoid robot you can actually buy to help around the house.
And — brace yourself — it costs $20,000, or like $499/month if you’re more of a subscription person (minimum six months, obviously, because nothing in life is commitment-free except sadness and YouTube free trials). Pre-orders are open and apparently they’re shipping in 2026, which feels forever away, but also next week, time is weird.
So yeah, imagine a home assistant robot that can tidy your space, open doors, maybe pick up all the socks you swear weren’t yours. I keep thinking, “Wow, why didn’t this exist back when I was living alone and burning toast every morning?”
Is it a consumer robot? Yep. Who makes it? 1X. Am I a little nervous about a robot that smart in my living room? Also yes. But honestly… kinda excited too. It’s like having a super-polite roommate who never eats your leftovers or judges your microwave-only diet.
2) Key Specs & Capabilities (At-a-Glance Table)
So, I was staring at this thing again — the NEO home robot — and, idk, every time I look at it, I get this weird mix of “wow, future!” and “okay but also why does it look like it’s quietly judging me for eating Maggi at 1 AM again.”
Anyway. Specs. Numbers. Stuff that makes you feel like you’re in control of your life because you know a robot’s height and connectivity options.
This thing stands about 5’6” — basically my height, except it probably stands straighter. I slouch like I’m apologizing to gravity. Weight? ~132 lbs. Solid. Like if a gym trainer became a polite house guest.
And strength? Bro. It can lift around 154 pounds. That’s literally more than I bench. Not that I bench. I once tried to lift a gas cylinder alone and saw my ancestors, so yeah, this robot wins.
Noise? It’s like 22 dB, so basically a whisper. A quiet one. Imagine someone trying to tell you a secret but losing confidence halfway.
And since someone’s going to ask — yeah, it connects to Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, and 5G like it’s prepping to join a hacker forum. It has this built-in LLM brain thing, memory, audio-visual intelligence, and some Redwood VLM magic. Honestly sometimes I feel like my phone already judges me, and now this robot might remember when I drop rice all over the floor. Great.
I mean, cool, right? Cool and a little unsettling. But whatever, we’re all pretending the future is normal now.
Quick specs table before I start spiraling again:
| Spec | NEO Robot |
|---|---|
| Height | ~5’6” |
| Weight | ~132 lbs |
| Lift Capacity | ~154 lbs |
| Noise | ~22 dB (very quiet whisper) |
| Connectivity | Wi-Fi / Bluetooth / 5G |
| Intelligence | Built-in LLM, Memory, Audio-Visual AI, Redwood VLM |
And that’s NEO in a nutshell. Kinda like a super helpful roommate who never sleeps and probably knows your habits better than your therapist.
I keep thinking… like, are we really ready for something that strong and quiet just chilling in our house?
But also… laundry… so.
3) What NEO Can Do Today (and How It Learns New Skills)
Okay, so what NEO can actually do right now… honestly, I’ve been waiting years for a robot that doesn’t just roll around like a Roomba pretending it has a mission. And NEO? It finally feels like a little glimpse of the future — but like, the beta version of the future where things still drop and fall and your socks mysteriously disappear into robot hands.
I mean, yeah, NEO can fold laundry — not like your mom folds towels perfectly with that weird hotel-level precision she somehow learned on YouTube, but it tries. Sometimes it looks more like it politely squished the shirt and apologized in its head, but still, progress. And the fact that it can pick clothes up off the couch, organize shelves, carry stuff around the house, turn lights on/off, and do basic smart home tasks? If you hate getting up after you finally sit down with tea, this thing will spoil you fast.
And voice commands? Yep. You tell it something and it responds, though occasionally it pauses like a tired intern thinking, “ugh… do I HAVE to?”
Honestly, same.
The part that kinda blows my mind is how it learns. It gets better over time, like a puppy who watches you fold laundry and eventually kinda gets it instead of just eating socks. NEO builds routines. It sees patterns. You do something ten times and it starts… learning. And when it gets confused? That’s when a remote human operator quietly steps in to guide it — like a robot babysitter in the cloud.
It’s weird, but kinda comforting, idk.
Sometimes I imagine someone sitting in their hoodie at 3 AM, guiding my robot to pick up a cereal bowl because the robot got emotional damage from a spoon reflection or whatever. Tech is wild.
Stuff NEO can handle today (based on real demos, not sci-fi daydreams):
- Fold laundry (ish)
- Pick clothes up
- Organize shelves like a very polite roommate
- Carry groceries, bags, random “I don’t wanna move this” things
- Turn lights on/off
- Open doors and drawers
- Simple voice tasks (“put this on the table,” “bring me water,” “follow me”)
- Support smart home routines
- Learn routines and improve at tasks with updates
If I can get it to put snacks near my bed before Netflix, I’m calling that peak civilization.
tiny pro-tip box because my brain likes boxes
When does NEO act on its own vs. need human backup?
Autonomous-ish stuff:
- Recognizing basic objects (clothes, dishes, cabinet handles)
- Following you around like a curious golden retriever
- Grabbing light objects
- Smart-home / lights / voice stuff
Teleoperator moments:
- Tricky grips (glassware, heavy pots)
- Weird angles (dropping something behind the couch)
- Anything sharp/hot or emotionally chaotic like a pile of tangled chargers
- Basically whenever physics gets sassy
I’m not gonna lie — part of me still expects it to look me in the eye one day and whisper “I saw what you ate at 1:37 AM… questionable choice.”
But another part of me? I’m just grateful.
A robot that actually does things, learns slowly like the rest of us, messes up, gets better… and yeah, sometimes drops a sock. Same energy as me trying life most days.
Anyway — if NEO ends up doing chores better than I do, I won’t be jealous. Probably.
4) Price, Subscription, Colors & Delivery Timeline
Okay so, money part. This always feels awkward, like when you’re checking the price of something in a store and pretending you’re “just browsing” even though your brain already screamed nope.
So — how much is NEO?
Twenty. Thousand. Dollars.
Yeah. $20,000. For a home robot. I literally paused when I saw that number, blinked at the screen like maybe my eyes glitched. I mean, I once cried buying a $1,200 laptop because I thought that was my “grown-up tech purchase moment.” This thing is a whole car. A Honda-Civic-level decision.
But then, of course these robot-company people knew we’d choke on the number, so there’s a subscription plan too — $499/month. Which still sounds like “rich-tech-bro problems,” but also…I’ve seen folks pay more for gym memberships they never use and, idk, some folks buy $6 coffees every day like they own Starbucks. So maybe it’s all relative.
Also, colors. I didn’t expect to care, but apparently NEO comes in like these muted “I live in a Pinterest house” shades — tan, gray, that kind of vibe. Minimalist robot chic. If it came in neon pink I’d probably judge it less for costing more than my first car, honestly.
Delivery? Right — 2026. Which means if you preorder now (US only first, because of course), you’re basically paying now for something Future-You might unbox while complaining about rent increases and climate anxiety in two years.
I keep imagining a delivery truck showing up and the driver being like, “Uh hey, your robot is here,” and me just… standing at the door wondering where to put it. Like, next to the shoe rack? Does it get its own shelf?
I don’t know, man. Technology is wild. I still forget to water my plants. Now we’re out here putting robots on payment plans like they’re iPhones with arms.
5) Setup, Safety & Home Requirements
So, setting up this NEO Home Robot thing… honestly, I used to think you just unbox it, plug it in, and boom — robot butler. Like those dumb futuristic ads where a shiny AI guy brings you pancakes and pats the dog. Yeah, no. Turns out, you actually gotta think a little. Space, safety, your sanity. All that.
I was walking around my living room measuring weird corners like a confused interior designer who lost the blueprint. You don’t need a palace, but you also can’t have NEO squeezed between a sofa and that wobbly Ikea lamp you swear you’ll tighten one day. It moves like a human-ish thing — walks, bends, reaches — so give it breathing room. And maybe don’t leave your shoes everywhere like I do because watching a $20k robot trip on sneakers would probably ruin my whole week.
And look, people keep asking, “Is NEO safe around kids and pets?” Idk, man. My niece once punched a Roomba like it owed her money. Kids are chaos. But NEO has soft materials and tendon-driven motors instead of those scary hard robot joints you see in movies, so it’s kinda… gentle? Not plush-toy gentle, but like — it’s built so bumping into you won’t feel like being tackled by gym equipment. Still, I wouldn’t leave it babysitting a toddler while you go get biryani. Common sense isn’t downloadable (yet).
Also — knives and hot pans? Nope. It’s literally designed to avoid sharp and hot stuff. Which honestly, fair. I burned my hand making Maggi at 2am once and I’m human. The robot avoiding kitchen knives feels comforting, especially since I barely trust myself around my pressure cooker some days. It helps with everyday chores, sure — lights, laundry, tidying — but we’re not at “robot Gordon Ramsay” yet, thank god.
Oh — pets. My cat looked at the vacuum like it was plotting her murder, so I’m watching her reaction carefully. But NEO’s pretty calm, slow, predictable. If your pet can tolerate a blender or a courier guy, they’ll probably survive this.
Anyway, treat NEO like a helpful guest. Give it space. Keep your knives where they belong. And don’t assume it’ll save your life or fold your socks into hotel swans. It’s cool — just not magic. Yet.
6) Privacy, Teleoperation & Data (What You Should Know)
Alright, so—privacy.
Yeah, that awkward, stomach-tight little topic nobody wants to admit they’re nervous about. I’ll just say it straight: anything that moves around your house and thinks (or…acts like it thinks) makes the hair on my neck stand up a bit. Like, I can barely trust the camera on my laptop, and now we’re talking about a walking metal roommate that sees everything I drop on the floor and the weird snacks I eat at 2am? Cool cool cool.
People keep asking: “Does NEO use remote human operators?”
And, uh, yes. Sometimes. It’s called teleoperation. Fancy word for a real human might be guiding it when it gets confused.
Which sounds kind of sweet — like backup brains — until you suddenly imagine someone somewhere watching your robot pick up your laundry and going, “wow this person really needs to buy new socks.”
I know, I’m joking, but also not joking.
And yeah, “does NEO record video” — it sees. It hears. It processes stuff to work in your house. You don’t get a humanoid robot without sensors. And data has to go somewhere, at least temporarily, to help it figure things out.
I mean, robots don’t magically wake up knowing how to not walk into your coffee table (I wish I learned that fast — still have a scar from freshman year, don’t ask).
But here’s the part that helped me breathe:
You can limit access. Like tell NEO what rooms it’s allowed in. Turn permissions on/off. Restrict some features. Create “no robot zones.” And honestly? I love that phrase. I want a little wooden sign for my bedroom door. Might draw a tiny robot face on it looking sad. Whatever.
Also…these home robots get updates. Software-y stuff. Which is cool because it learns and gets better. Also slightly terrifying because…more updates means more data moving around, and we kinda live in this bizarre era where even my toaster is asking for my Wi-Fi password. So yeah, I check settings like a paranoid grandma checking the gas stove twice. Or fifteen times.
Oh, and “what data does NEO need to work?”
Mostly home layout info, object recognition, voice command stuff, routine patterns. All the boring behind-the-scenes AI bits that let it fold laundry instead of…throwing your shirt into a plant.
Anyway. I’m excited and nervous and curious and slightly suspicious.
Like, I’m totally here for the future — I just also want a future where my robot isn’t secretly judging me for eating cereal out of a mug because all my bowls are dirty.
Balance, right?
7) How NEO’s AI Works (LLM, “Redwood” VLM & Memory)
Okay so this part — “How NEO’s AI Works.”
I swear, the first time I looked into this thing, I sat there like… great, another robot that promises to “learn my life” and then forgets my face like my high-school math teacher.
But, nah. NEO’s a little different. It’s got this whole layered brain thing going on. There’s a built-in LLM (think… a brain that talks and remembers context instead of acting like “Sorry, I didn’t catch that” every 5 seconds). Then there’s this Redwood VLM thing, which sounds like a tree that went to college, but it’s basically the part that sees and understands your world. Like, if you point to your couch and say “Move this pillow,” it doesn’t stare blankly like your roommate — it actually knows what pillow means in that exact moment, in your house, with your questionable taste in throw blankets.
And the memory part?
Dude.
NEO doesn’t just memorize one thing at a time and self-destruct. It’s got this long-term memory system where it learns your routines — like how every morning you’re in the kitchen looking dead inside until the coffee kicks. It kind of notices the chaos of your life and goes, “okay cool, you like your mug this way, lights that way, don’t talk to you until caffeine.”
I kinda envy it honestly. A robot that remembers stuff better than me. I still forget my laundry in the washer like three times a week.
And yeah, it’s supposed to get better through software updates. Which, honestly, is both exciting and mildly terrifying. Like, today it’s helping fold laundry, tomorrow it’s judging you for your midnight cereal habit. Lol I’m kidding, but also… am I?
Anyway, this whole NEO Redwood VLM + memory + audio intelligence combo makes it feel less like a fancy voice assistant and more like a roommate who actually cares enough to learn how your life works.
I mean, I’m not saying it’ll fix your life. But if it remembers your schedule better than you do, and doesn’t roll its eyes when you ask it the same thing twice, that’s already better than most people, right?
And if you’re wondering what AI powers NEO — it’s basically this mash-up of language smarts, vision, and sensory stuff bundled into a personality that keeps improving. Will it get better with updates? Yep. That’s kinda the whole deal.
So yeah… it’s smart, it learns, it grows. And maybe one day it’ll also stop me from melting my AirPods in the washing machine again. (Don’t ask.)
8) Real-World Use Cases: Families, Seniors & Accessibility
So, I’ve been thinking about this whole NEO home robot helping families and seniors thing, and honestly… I keep picturing my aunt yelling at our old mixer because it “had attitude.” Like, imagine her talking to a humanoid robot. “NEO, beta, pick up the towel.” And if it hesitates? She’d probably scold it like it’s a kid skipping homework.
Anyway, jokes aside—aging parents, man. It’s weird how suddenly you wake up one day and they’re not the superheroes you grew up with. They walk a bit slower, forget a thing here and there, and you’re like… when did this happen? And then you’re googling stuff like “Can NEO help elderly parents?” at 2am because your mom tripped once and now your brain won’t shut up.
And yes, NEO can help seniors. Not in the “magical robot nurse” way. More like the “quiet helper who does the boring stuff so you can breathe” way. Folding laundry, picking up things from the floor, bringing a water bottle, maybe reminding them to take meds. You know, the tiny tasks you don’t realize steal your whole day until…it’s 8pm and you ate biscuits for dinner again. Idk if that’s relatable or if that’s just me.
But before anyone thinks this is some replacement for human caregivers — nope. Let’s not romanticize tech like sci-fi movies. NEO isn’t going to emotionally comfort someone after a doctor’s call, and it’s not gonna know your dad jokes are fake laughs to hide fear (ugh, that moment always hits). It’s an assistive humanoid robot at home, not a miracle worker with chai-making skills. If anything, it’s like an extra pair of hands so you can keep your sanity and maybe shower without guilt.
I keep coming back to this idea: time. Like, imagine being able to sit and actually talk to your mom about that weird neighbor lady instead of rushing around wiping tables and fetching towels. That’s the real win. The chores that save time? Folding clothes, tidying, carrying groceries, grabbing stuff, switch-on-switch-off tasks. The boring tiny tasks we secretly resent but feel terrible about resenting.
I don’t know, maybe I romanticize the idea of giving our parents comfort in their last decades because I wish I did it better when my grandparents were here. But if a robot can give us more minutes with them — real minutes, not distracted “wait, one second” minutes? Yeah. I’d take that. Even if it means occasionally yelling “NEO stop rearranging my socks” like a crazy person.
Anyway. Technology’s wild. And a little emotional sometimes. Kinda like us.
9) NEO vs. Alternatives (Amazon Astro, robot vacs, other humanoids)
Okay so listen, this whole NEO vs other robots thing?
It’s kinda like comparing a golden retriever, a Roomba, and… idk… a future cyborg roommate who’s still learning how to fold your shirts without accidentally yeeting them across the room.
I was staring at my Amazon Astro the other night (don’t ask why I bought it, impulse tech shopping is my red flag), and it just… rolled into the kitchen, beeped at a wall, did a sad U-turn, and went back to its charging dock like it needed a nap from existing. I literally whispered, “Buddy same.”
Meanwhile we’re sitting here debating Is NEO better than Amazon Astro?
And honestly, kinda yeah, but also depends what you expect from a robot. Like… Astro is basically a smart security camera on wheels with “mom checking if you’re alive” energy.
NEO? NEO wants to be a legit humanoid helper. Fingers, arms, legs, lifts stuff, picks things up, kinda feels like the start of having a butler but without the awkward eye contact.
But also, I mean… we’re early. Like very early.
The “I want a robot roommate” era hasn’t fully downloaded yet.
My short version before I overthink again:
- Astro = moving baby monitor + Alexa with wheels
- Robot vacuums/mops = floor slaves (love them, they judge no one)
- NEO = maybe the first “help me tidy so people don’t think I live like this” robot
And yeah I know price matters and privacy matters and, ugh, teleoperation freaks me out sometimes (who’s controlling who? lol existential moment), but this is where we are.
Quick messy comparison before my coffee gets cold
| Feature | NEO | Amazon Astro | Robot Vac/Mop | Other Humanoids (concepts) |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Form | Humanoid | Little rolling tablet-stalker | “I eat crumbs” disc | Humanoid-ish CGI lifestyles |
| Moves like a person? | Yep, legs + arms | lol no | absolutely not | Right now mostly trailers |
| Can pick things up? | Yup | nope | crumbs only | eventually |
| Does chores? | Folding laundry, organizing stuff (learning) | Mostly watches | Floors only | maybe someday |
| Price | Expensive adult decision | Smart gadget splurge | Everyone owns one | TBD space-dream money |
| Privacy vibes | New tech anxiety but trying | Amazon… so… you know | Doesn’t listen… we hope | unknown |
| Availability | Real and preordering | Buyable | Already in your house | Future teasers |
Will someone yell about this table? Probably.
But I’m tired and this is how my brain works.
Should you wait for other home humanoid robots?
I mean, if you’re like me and still traumatized by buying Google Glass and that one random blockchain fridge (don’t judge me), patience isn’t a bad thing.
Innovation moves fast, but also… things break, updates are weird, and next-gen models always come.
But also… if you like playing with the future while it’s still glitchy and adorable and slightly scary, NEO feels like the first robot where I’m like:
“Okay, I would genuinely ask you to grab the laundry basket without feeling like a villain in a sci-fi movie.”
Astro never gave me that.
My Roomba just bullies chair legs.
NEO?
Feels like the start of something.
Not perfect, not magic, not sci-fi yet.
But like when smartphones were clunky and ugly and we didn’t realize we were watching history start.
Anyway. I’m rambling but I guess this is my vibe today.
Coffee cold, robot dreams warm.
If you buy NEO before it’s mainstream, you’re either a genius or the person who bought a 3D TV in 2012.
Either way, you’re fun.
And honestly? I’d rather hang out with fun people than “wait until version 3” people.
10) Ordering Guide: Eligibility, Financing & Refunds
Okay, ordering this thing… NEO, right? If you’ve ever tried to buy something expensive and futuristic online at 1 AM while eating leftover biryani (look, don’t judge), then you kinda know the vibe. You don’t walk into a store — you basically knock on their website and say, “hey, uh… can I get one robot that folds laundry and hopefully doesn’t judge my life choices?”
So basically, how do you preorder NEO?
You go to the official 1X site. There’s a page with big shiny robot pictures and a button that low-key feels like a dare. You click. Fill your details. Boom. You’re in some future-member-invite-whatever queue. It’s… weirdly casual for something that costs as much as a small apartment in a Tier-3 Indian town.
Money part — yeah. That’s where I almost closed the tab and pretended I never googled “order NEO robot.” It’s around $20,000 or that $499/month plan thing. Subscription for a robot. I mean, we used to rent DVDs from video stores, and now we might rent humanoids that fold laundry. My grandmother would faint.
Do you need a huge deposit? Yup. They don’t just take your email and trust you’ll show up with money later. It’s like, “commit or stop daydreaming.” And refunds? I couldn’t find a big fat button that said “cancel anytime, emotionally safe for fragile buyers.” So yeah, probably possible but maybe not instant. Companies love forms. And wait times. And emails that say “we value your patience.”
Anyway. If you actually go through with it and not just window-shop like me? Let me know. I’ll probably still be here reheating chai and convincing myself that one day, when I’m rich or whatever, pressing Buy NEO will feel normal and not like I’m buying a tiny futuristic butler who might someday get tired of my laundry pile and leave.
11) Hands-On & Early Impressions (Roundup)
Okay, so early impressions of the NEO home robot, right? I’ll be honest — I didn’t expect to care. I’m tired of “future of home robotics” hype videos where the robot just, idk, politely taps a cup like it’s negotiating with it. But this one? NEO kinda got under my skin. Not like “oh wow it’s magic” — more like, wait… this might actually be a thing soon and I am not prepared.
I watched those first-look demos — laundry folding, light switches, moving things around like a tired intern — and yeah, part of me whispered, “okay, there goes my last excuse for not keeping my room clean.” It wasn’t glamorous. It waddles. It’s a little stiff. The way it picks up clothes reminds me of me trying to get socks out of the dryer without dropping the warm ones and yelling. But still… there’s this humanness in how it adjusts, re-thinks, like it’s genuinely trying.
People online keep asking, “Is NEO ready for homes?” And honestly? Eh, kinda? Like, it feels like the beta version of the future your grandparents joked about, but actually standing in your living room instead of stuck in a PowerPoint deck. You can feel the “new-tech awkwardness” — like when smartphones first came out and half the world was like “lol why would I need internet in my pocket?” and now we panic when battery hits 20%.
Anyway, I read those early press blurbs — BusinessWire sounding like they’re announcing a moon landing; newspapers doing that polite journalism tone of “hm yes interesting technology but we’ll see.” And those tech sites were like, “well it folds laundry and doesn’t stab you with knives,” which, honestly, is already better than half the humans I’ve met when they’re hungry.
What stuck with me though? Review folks kept saying the same thing: it’s not just programmed motions — it reacts, learns, kinda… gets the room. That freaks me out and fascinates me and also makes me check my curtains twice like I’m hiding state secrets instead of expired cereal.
But — and this is me oversharing again — watching the NEO first look, I had this weird little spark. Like that first time I saw someone swipe-to-unlock an iPhone and my brain quietly went, “oh dude… everything’s about to change.”
Will NEO burn toast or break a mug or just stare at a laundry pile like I do when I mentally clock out? Probably. It’s early. But for the first time I’m not rolling my eyes. I’m… kinda rooting for it. And maybe terrified too. Both can be true.
12) Pros, Cons & Who Should/Shouldn’t Buy
Okay, so… this is the part where people expect some neat little grid, right? “Pros, cons, should you buy the NEO Home Robot?” And honestly, I kinda laughed when I first saw the price — $20,000. Like, bro… my first used car wasn’t even that much. I literally texted a friend like, “So if I don’t eat for two years, I can have a robot who folds laundry. Nice.”
But then I kept thinking. I spend way too much time doing dumb chores. Picking socks off the floor. Hunting for the remote that somehow hides like it’s being paid to go undercover. And I dunno, something about the idea of a humanoid robot quietly helping around the house feels… weirdly calming? Or creepy. Depends on the hour and my caffeine level.
Pros (or whatever you’d call them)
- It’s actually useful — folding clothes, tidying, grabbing stuff, all the boring life admin things.
- You don’t have to nag it. Imagine a roommate who doesn’t leave dishes “to soak.”
- Future upgrade vibes — like buying the first iPhone before everyone pretended they always loved it.
- Might help seniors or caregivers, which honestly makes me soft thinking about it.
Cons (the stomach drop parts)
- Twenty. Thousand. Dollars. Or monthly payments that still feel like rent.
- It’s still early tech, and early tech sometimes gets stuck staring at a pillow like it’s a philosophical riddle.
- Privacy. There’s teleoperation. Someone somewhere might literally help your robot figure out how to grab a towel. That’s kinda intimate?? idk.
So… is NEO worth $20,000? Depends.
If you’re the type who buys gadgets like they’re emotional support animals — yeah maybe. If you’re taking screenshots of grocery deals, please don’t destroy your savings for a machine that can hand you a banana (even though that’s kinda cool ngl).
Who should buy it?
Early adopters with money. Caregivers looking for support. People who really, really hate laundry.
Who shouldn’t?
Anyone already stressed about bills. Or someone who’d freak out if a robot quietly rolled into the kitchen at 2am. (Honestly I’d scream first and ask questions later.)
Anyway. I’m kinda rooting for it. Not because I need a robot… just because it feels like the future knocking, and sometimes you want to peek through the door even if you’re not ready to let it in yet.
13) FAQs (expandable accordions; target People-Also-Ask)
Alright, so I’m doing this FAQ thing, but honestly it feels more like me mumbling to myself in a kitchen at 11pm, staring at cold coffee and thinking, “am I really answering questions about a robot butler right now?” Anyway—NEO Home Robot stuff. People ask these things. I asked them too. So here goes.
❓ Does NEO work without internet?
Short answer: nah. Long-ish answer: it kinda exists without internet, like physically it’s still there, staring blankly like your dog when you ask him about taxes, but most smart brain stuff? Needs internet. I unplugged my router once just to “reset my life,” and I swear even my toaster judged me. So yeah, keep Wi-Fi alive.
❓ Can NEO cook?
No. I mean… it can help, like pass you stuff or hold a pan maybe? but don’t expect gourmet pasta. Or fire. Or knives. Please don’t hand a humanoid robot a knife. We saw Terminator. We know better.
I once trusted a blender without the lid on. Sauce everywhere. Don’t trust machines with dinner yet, is what I’m saying.
❓ Is NEO compatible with Alexa or Google Home?
You’d think yes, because everything talks to everything now—my fridge once tried to connect to my speaker and I still don’t know why—but it’s not really advertised like “hey Alexa meet my robot roommate.” So… probably future thing? No one wants two AI voices fighting in your living room anyway. Imagine Alexa arguing with NEO about turning off the fan. Chaos.
❓ What happens during a power outage?
It stops. Like you and me when the current bill hits and we’re like, “wait—HOW many units did I use just scrolling reels??”
Battery backup? Yeah, there’s some capacity, but don’t expect superhero mode. It won’t clean a disaster kitchen in the dark like some robot maid fantasy.
❓ How often does NEO get updates?
Fairly often because these companies treat software updates like breathing. You wake up and your phone suddenly has a new notification shade and you never asked for it. Same vibe.
Updates make it smarter, or at least that’s the promise. One time an update broke my laptop camera for three days so… I trust, but I also save drafts offline. Trauma.
❓ So, should you worry about privacy?
Bro. It’s a walking camera with Wi-Fi. Yes, be mildly paranoid. Healthy paranoia builds character. And stronger passwords.
I mean, technology is wild. We used to yell at DVD players for freezing during movies and now we’re out here asking “can my home robot fold laundry AND talk to Alexa?” Life is weird. But cool. Kinda stressful though. Anyway—if NEO starts doing dishes without complaining… I’m buying two.
14) Bottom Line & Next Steps
So… bottom line? I don’t know, man. This whole NEO thing feels like one of those moments where you blink and suddenly the world’s different. Like when my dad swore touchscreens were “a gimmick” and then—boom—now he’s yelling at his phone because it won’t open WhatsApp fast enough.
I keep thinking about how weirdly normal it feels that I might have a robot at home soon. Not a vacuum that bumps into walls. An actual NEO, walking around, grabbing laundry, maybe reminding me I left rice boiling again. That’s kinda exciting and kinda “uhhh… do I really trust a $20k smart metal roommate to not stare at me eating cereal at 2am?”
Anyway. If you’re even slightly curious, just get on the waitlist. No one’s asking you to marry a humanoid. It’s just… stay in the loop. Compare the financing later when life stops feeling chaotic (lol when does that happen? idk). Bookmark this. Comment and tell me what dumb chore you’d make it learn—I’d probably start with folding fitted sheets because those things are black magic.
We’re all just figuring this future stuff out. One slightly nervous preorder button hover at a time.