In a fit of Black Friday madness, my husband and I decided to buy our two oldest boys tablets for Christmas. It’s not like they needed another screen to sit in front of, but it was a good deal. And since the salesman talked us into getting a new full-size tablet too, I could keep that and give my old Kindle to my youngest, so we’d all have one. No more fighting over the Kindle Fire. Happy, happy, joy, joy.
And they were thrilled. Of course there would be limits. Time limits, only free, age appropriate apps would be downloaded, etc. All agreed to happily.
Then it came time to set-up these devices. Here’s an interesting little detail - they do not come with an instruction manual, you must download it. Unfortunately, that requires turning on the Wi-Fi & connecting to a server. Which, for me, requires INSTRUCTIONS.
Son number two tries to help. “It says you have to be connected to the Internet.”
“I am aware. How do you connect to the Internet?”
“Hit the cog-wheel icon.”
“There is no cog-wheel icon.”
Son begins to cry. “It’s broken!”
Mother begins to swear. “It’s not broken – it’s just counter-intuitive!”
Oldest son pipes up, cheery-like. “My Wi-Fi is connected.”
I grab his tablet. “How’d you do that?”
“The screen popped up.”
More cursing. “It’s the same exact device – what did you do?”
“I don’t know. See, now it’s asking for your credit card number.”
Of course it is. Middle son leaves the room to sob in private.
“I’m not giving that thing my credit card information. Just stop hitting buttons.”
“There aren’t any buttons. It’s a tablet.”
Mother growls.
“Oh, look. I can download apps!” Oldest son is elated.
“How are you doing this?”
Son number two cries out from back room. “Mine is broken!”
Youngest son steps up. “Mommy, you need to get your stuff off my Kindle.”
Mother panics. “Don’t delete anything! I haven’t even taken my new one out of the package. JUST GIVE ME A MINUTE!”
Sweaty – I’m all sweaty. Why does technology stress me out so much?
I swipe a stray hair off the screen of the unresponsive tablet in front of me and the options menu pops up.
“Nobody breathe! I found a menu!”
Second son hurries out from the back room. “So it’s not broken?”
“You’re breathing! I said no breathing!”
“I’m sorry.”
Jiminy Christmas, my child is now apologizing to me for breathing. I hate technology.
Several tension-filled minutes later and manuals are downloaded. I make them read through it, let them download a few apps, and all is right with the world.
Son number two gives me a big hug. “Thank you, Mommy.”
And now I feel like an ASS. “Yeah – sorry I got mad. Technology stresses me out.”
“So, did you figure out how your new tablet works yet?’
Damn. “Maybe tomorrow.” After a trip to the liquor store.
And they were thrilled. Of course there would be limits. Time limits, only free, age appropriate apps would be downloaded, etc. All agreed to happily.
Then it came time to set-up these devices. Here’s an interesting little detail - they do not come with an instruction manual, you must download it. Unfortunately, that requires turning on the Wi-Fi & connecting to a server. Which, for me, requires INSTRUCTIONS.
Son number two tries to help. “It says you have to be connected to the Internet.”
“I am aware. How do you connect to the Internet?”
“Hit the cog-wheel icon.”
“There is no cog-wheel icon.”
Son begins to cry. “It’s broken!”
Mother begins to swear. “It’s not broken – it’s just counter-intuitive!”
Oldest son pipes up, cheery-like. “My Wi-Fi is connected.”
I grab his tablet. “How’d you do that?”
“The screen popped up.”
More cursing. “It’s the same exact device – what did you do?”
“I don’t know. See, now it’s asking for your credit card number.”
Of course it is. Middle son leaves the room to sob in private.
“I’m not giving that thing my credit card information. Just stop hitting buttons.”
“There aren’t any buttons. It’s a tablet.”
Mother growls.
“Oh, look. I can download apps!” Oldest son is elated.
“How are you doing this?”
Son number two cries out from back room. “Mine is broken!”
Youngest son steps up. “Mommy, you need to get your stuff off my Kindle.”
Mother panics. “Don’t delete anything! I haven’t even taken my new one out of the package. JUST GIVE ME A MINUTE!”
Sweaty – I’m all sweaty. Why does technology stress me out so much?
I swipe a stray hair off the screen of the unresponsive tablet in front of me and the options menu pops up.
“Nobody breathe! I found a menu!”
Second son hurries out from the back room. “So it’s not broken?”
“You’re breathing! I said no breathing!”
“I’m sorry.”
Jiminy Christmas, my child is now apologizing to me for breathing. I hate technology.
Several tension-filled minutes later and manuals are downloaded. I make them read through it, let them download a few apps, and all is right with the world.
Son number two gives me a big hug. “Thank you, Mommy.”
And now I feel like an ASS. “Yeah – sorry I got mad. Technology stresses me out.”
“So, did you figure out how your new tablet works yet?’
Damn. “Maybe tomorrow.” After a trip to the liquor store.
RSS Feed
