funny

Old People and Technology

This has been sitting in my drafts folder for months — time to let it see the light of day.

My mother-in-law got a new car. She is really not tech savvy. I routinely have to fix her computer, her tablet, and her phone. Had to fix Facebook for her once after she accidentally set her posts private for a year and was pissed over lack of comments, and then there was the time she straight up thought Obi Wan Kenobi was Jesus on Facebook. As most of y’all probably know, many (maybe all, I dunno) new cars have infotainment systems. And guess what’s required to use this system? A basic understanding of technology!

The struggle has been real for my in-laws because of this. We were getting call after call asking about syncing, music, bluetooth, contacts, Google Voice, where Siri went (which is strange, because my MIL has never owned an iPhone or iPad that had Siri), and On-Star. I know there’s a learning curve on this stuff, and despite my teasing, I mostly don’t mind helping. (And as much as I like to joke about older people and technology, I have to ask for help on some pretty basic cooking things, so it evens out.)

Mother-in-law approached me a month or two ago to ask about the possibility of legal trouble regarding their new car. After complaining about it for a few minutes, she told me that she was worried they were going to get arrested because her husband cussed out the virtual advisor. He asked for directions, it didn’t understand him and it gave him some random answer. After that happened a few times, he let loose.

“Could he go to jail for that?” she asked me.

I can usually keep a straight face with her, but this time I couldn’t. The thought of cussing out On-Star’s version of Siri is was humorous enough, but getting arrested for it? I about pissed my pants.  I assured her that no one was monitoring those interactions (I don’t need to expose her to my paranoid brain) and that no laws had been broken.

I thought that was the end of it until I talked to her grandkids this past weekend and one of them mentioned her calling all four of them — recently, too — and asking if they were going to get arrested over this. Holy shit.

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Things Kids Say: Strawberries, Fevers, And More

Yesterday Baby Girl gave me enough material to do a few weeks worth of Things Kids Say. Instead of making you wait for it, though, I’ll post it all today, because I’m cool like that.

While changing Baby Girl’s diaper, she started scratching herself. She’s got a bit of a rash going on. It’d be nice if she were ready to potty train (and she did show interest briefly but has since flat-out refused to go on the toilet), but that’s not where we’re at right now. So, as usual, I instructed her to stop her clawing.

“Baby Girl, don’t scratch at your vulva — it’s already red,” I told her.

“Ooooh, Mommy, do it look like a strawberry?” she asked excitedly. I had to inform her that, no, her vulva did not resemble a strawberry. File that one under “Things I Never Thought I’d Say.”

*      *      *

Little Man is sick with the flu. Again. Yep, he had to go ruin our Illness Free streak, which I think lasted about three weeks. (I’m kidding — poor Little Man.) So, Baby Girl loves going to the doctor and often asks to go. She has a little doctor kit that she plays with a lot, too. (Yep, I’m already boasting to Sam that our daughter is gonna be a doctor.) I commented to BG that Little Man was sick, so she asked about the doctor, expressed regret that she didn’t get to go, and immediately went to doctoring.

“My doggy sick. I get my step-o-scope and shot and take his fever.” She went through the motions with the toy stethoscope and syringe, used the thing that’s used to check the nose and ears, and then pressed the button on the digital thermometer I had left out. (You can tell she’s paid close attention in her visits.)

“It say he got five dollars! He sick!” she said when the numbers popped up on the thermometer. Poor dog.

*      *      *

Our power went off briefly yesterday evening. After taking out the lantern (which BG declared to be “amazing”), Sam talked about getting some candles out. This made Baby Girl super excited.

“It’s my birthday?! Yay! It’s my birthday! Where’s my cake?” It took a while to make her understand that there was no cake. I was tempted to stick a leftover birthday candle in a Little Debbie cake, but she didn’t eat her supper, so no Debbies for her.

*      *      *

And now for the super sweet thing she said yesterday — we were waiting on a call from Little Man’s doctor (the insurance denied his Tamiflu prescription, saying they wouldn’t cover it more than once in a 90-day period, so the office was trying to get that sorted out). I didn’t hear the phone ring, because sucky hearing, and Baby Girl told me it was ringing. I told her a little bit later that I appreciated her telling me it was ringing.

“Mommy’s ears don’t work very well, so I need your help hearing things sometimes,” I told her.

“Your ears not work?” she asked.

“Not very good,” I answered.

“Poor Mommy,” Baby Girl said, looking sad. “I go see Santa tomorrow. I say I want new ears for you. I say, ‘Pleeeease, Santa!'” All the feels right there.

Weirdos Visit Again

Normally I wouldn’t do another search terms post within 24 hours of the last one, but, jeez, I have to.

In case this individual ever comes back, I’ll answer that —

Does Captain Morgan make your breath smell after drinking it? (I’m gonna assume that’s what this person meant.) Yes. And if you drink too much of it, like I did that one time, your breath will smell significantly worse than like spiced rum.

On the off-chance this person meant “Does the Captain himself have the ability to smell after drinking,” then I don’t see why alcohol would cause him to lose his olfactory sense. Although, I suppose it’s possible if the Captain gets blackout drunk — he wouldn’t be smelling anything then.

Oh! And I figured out why I keep getting porn hits. I forgot that I had a) written a post about the time I took porn to school while teaching and b) include a “What’s Your Porn Name?” quiz in a post. And here I am calling other people weirdos.

I Said What?

Some odd people visit my blog, and I don’t just mean those of you who pop in on a regular basis. More often that not, the terms search terms WordPress shows me that people used to get to this blog are fairly unusual. Sometimes they’re downright creepy. (Thank god I can’t see them all, or I might GTFO.)

This is my March so far. (And I don’t know Peter Kay is.)

I don’t recall posting the last thing on this blog, but I suppose it isn’t untrue.

Dummies And DMX

Like other toddlers, Baby Girl has the uncanny ability to pick up on every word that isn’t quite appropriate for her to say. Even if she hears it just once, her radar goes off and she adds it to her lexicon.

Bilbo had just swiped Baby Girl’s snack off the table, and after yelling at him, she said, “Bilbo a dummy!”

I’d be irritated, too, but that was a bit harsh. “We don’t say ‘dummy’ Baby Girl, that’s not nice,” I told her. “Did you hear someone say it at school?”

“No, Mommy, I hear Daddy say dummy,” she answered.

“Ha ha! It wasn’t me this time!” Little Man, who has been getting lectured over certain words he’s taught Baby Girl, exclaimed. “Oooooooh, Daddy is in trouble! He called Bilbo a dummy when he wouldn’t come inside last night.”

I called Sam in to explain the situation and ask if that were true, figuring that he’d take a hint and say that he shouldn’t have called the dog a dummy.

“Yeah, I called him a dummy, because he is a dummy. He wouldn’t come inside when it was raining.”

I sighed. “But is that a nice word to use when talking about our dog?”

“It’s true.”

Little Man giggled. I sighed a bit louder and gave Sam the look.

“Baby Girl, Daddy shouldn’t have called Bilbo a ‘dummy.’ That wasn’t nice, okay? You don’t go around calling people dummies,” Sam told her.

“Dummy,” she said, with a grin on her face.

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A little while later, I was helping Little Man with his homework. He had a thick math packet to complete from when he was absent. I helped him through it, but not without him trying to drive me crazy by getting out of his seat every five seconds to check on something or pee or get a drink or see what Baby Girl was doing with the tablet or to get a snack… It didn’t help that Baby Girl kept interrupting us with her list of demands. “Mommy, you get my milk, please. Mommy, I want a cereal bar. Mommy, I want my favorite sucker. Mommy, I want a THAT.” (When she’s not sure what she wants, she’ll ask for a “THAT” and wait for me to suggest things that she could possibly want.)

“Y’all gonna make me lose my mind up in here, up in here. Y’all gonna make me act a fool, up in here, up in here. Y’all gonna make me lose my cool, up in here, up in here,” I sang. This was better than saying other words.

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“Ooh, what song was that?” Little Man wanted to know.

“The theme song to my life. I don’t know, the name is Y’all Gonna Make Me Lose My Mind or something. Let me look it up on YouTube.”

So I did. And I started playing it and then Little Man started break dancing. And then Sam came back in.

“Oh, my god, E, what are you letting them listen to?!” He rushed over to the computer.

“That Y’all Gonna Make Me Lose My Mind song. Why?”

He close the tab with the song playing. “Did you not hear the words he was saying?”

“Just the opening part.”

He whispered some of the rest of the song in my ear. (You can read the lyrics here.) Yikes. Luckily LM couldn’t understand any more of the song, either.

“So, dear, you do realize that you were just riding me about saying ‘dummy’ around Baby Girl, right?” Sam asked. “And then you play a really explicit DMX song to them a few minutes later?”

Hmph.