I am charmed enough by Codsworth that he's busy vaccuming again, although strictly speaking only certain parts of the house need it. (He is doing so without benefit of top hat, alas, as he knocks it off when he goes under furniture. I think I need a bowler hat decal of some sort). A few minutes ago I wandered into the living room to find no visual evidence of Codsworth but the sofa whirring busily to itself, interspersed with intervals of maddened chirping, demonstrating that (a) in defiance of probability Codsworth actually fits under the sofa, making that bit of floor probably the cleanest it's been ever, and (b) the inevitable under-sofa stash of cat toys includes that chirping cricket slightly maliciously gifted to me by philip&jo when they couldn't take Theodora continuously playing with it. I have also discovered that, if not strictly supervised, Codsworth attempts to eat electrical cable, which I can't see going well for anyone concerned.
On a similarly slightly robotic theme: I think this orchestral arrangement of "All Star" is being played by a music programme rather than an actual orchestra, giving it a faintly mechanical quality, but it still severely rocks.