We have Apple TV. It’s great, a little tiny black box that sits discreetly on a shelf near the TV. It magically eats money and makes kids movies appear seemingly from nowhere onto the TV so I can cook dinner without murdering my children. The problem is the remote, this little sexy thing about the size of a pack of gum. It was obviously designed by someone who has OCD and lives alone in a sterile apartment with no shit in it.

We’re on our third one. Even without the addition of kids, the thing is begging to be lost.  With kids, your average, normal-sized remote is at risk. This thing…there is no chance in hell it’s not getting replaced regularly. I should just throw it out the car window on my way back from the place where they keep the “geniuses.” Well played, Apple.

Here is the remote I need:

Size: A medium pizza box has the appropriate dimensions.

Weight: at least 10lbs so wandering off with it is discouraged. Also so that really little kids who like to throw things in the trash have trouble lifting it.

Functions: Controls everything with a minimum of buttons, but also reads minds, e.g. when grandma is sitting there thrashing in menus, and all she wants to do is put on the captions, the remote will sense this. The remote should also emit a loud beeping sound if it finds itself somehow put in the trash, a toilet, or moving more than ten feet from the couch. Perhaps a deluxe model could have Roomba like abilities to drive itself back to the coffee table, should it somehow wander.

Panic Button: This is extremely important. Hitting the panic button will automatically select the least offensive and most uninteresting (to children) material on at that moment. I’m talking CSPAN congressional coverage of a farm bill or something. This is for when a should-be sleeping child walks out and I’m waist deep in Apocalypse Now, Bikini Jeep Adventure, or some horror film sure to end in therapy bills if a 3-year-old glimpses a single frame.

Ball’s in your court, Apple. I await the iBrick.