Anakin's attention appeared to be on the chopsticks, but he snorted. "Roombas can't handle shit."
He had the bottom chopstick in place again.
"You still haven't told me why, though. I mean, you don't want to make A.I. for him- okay," Anakin shrugged as if they'd decided they weren't going to eat the brocolli he'd dumped into pot. "We won't." No big deal for him.
"But... I'm not not going to asume an answer for you. Does saying why make you uncomfortable?"