Fortnite/technology withdrawals, Day 6. Tyler has completed a 2,000-piece puzzle. Which to me, is every bit as fun as searching for 2,000 needles in 2,000 haystacks.
Suddenly, it all comes together.
Ages
Here’s what he’s been waiting for…
True to Amazon’s promise, Tyler’s surprise arrived yesterday just before 5 p.m. This Lego Creator Expert Harley-Davidson Fat Boy was ripped open and assembled in just under three hours.
A quick calculation reveals that I paid The Lego Group $0.67 per minute to entertain my son. Something tells me I’ve been footing the bill for the maintenance of Frederiksborg Palace.
Tyler’s computer has been awaiting repair for 112 grueling hours and counting. In the meantime, here’s to hoping he’ll take up a less expensive hobby–like an actual motorcycle.
Checkmate.
This week, Tyler flicked on his computer like any other morning and found himself staring at a black monitor. And within hours, he learned just how much technology has taken its toll on his imagination.
After he carved a track around the house with his pacing, I logged into Amazon and ordered him a certain object of his desire, guaranteed to keep him busy (at least for a couple hours).
Today, I decided it was time to unleash the suspense.
“I got you a surprise,” I blurted out mid-pace. “I’m not going to tell you what it is. But it’s arriving by 9 p.m. tonight.”
Tyler was never one to wait patiently for surprises. After an exasperating bout of begging and pleading, he finally persuaded me to allow him three questions that had to be answered honestly. The only thing he couldn’t ask was what it was.
His first question was, “Is it technology-related?”
“Hell to the no,” was my quick reply. “That’s what gave you all these problems in the first place.”
Knowing he was now down to two questions, he thought them over carefully.
“What’s your Amazon password?” he asked with a crafty smile.
I told him, then added I was changing it immediately after our conversation. The smile dissipated.
He now had only one question left. I could practically hear the cogs between his ears whirling.
Suddenly, as if out of a poof of inspiration, he tapped his fingertips together evil-genius style and posed his final question.
“Does Grandma know what it is?”
Checkmate. Grandmas cave more quickly than a mobile home in a hurricane.
Damnation…all I needed was a K.
The ultimate frustration: When your 12-year-old throws her hands up in the air amidst a battle of the crosswords, announces, “I suck at Scrabble,” and leaves the game unfinished.
