The magic box (a little long)

"She's your mother," I tell Hubby, "you distract her." He sighs and goes into the kitchen. I turn the computer box around and undo the screws.

"--can't open it!" my mother-in-law is saying. My long-suffering husband again tries to explain that computers aren't run by fairies and magic smoke.

I take off the side panel. As I suspected, the power supply for the hard drive wasn't seated correctly. I check the other cables, pull out a dust puppy, then close it back up. I reconnect everything, then push the power button. It beeps, then Windows gives its little chime.

MIL comes out of the kitchen and stares at the computer. "It works now?"

I take the coward's path. After all, it took three people and an hour to convince her that if you filled up hard drives, you didn't need to throw them away and get a new one. "Yes, it works."

Hee! Amy and Connie are both making me smile. I can see both scenes so clearly.

I love the theme of children and the elderly not understanding how the boxes work

I don't know if my mother ever got a computer. She thought ATMs were tools of the devil. I don't think Hubby's mother ever did quite trust that we weren't just telling her tall tales about computer storage and the like. I do enjoy laughing at women who try to say, "Oh, I'm 45, I don't understand computers." "Ma'am, I'm 47, and I do tech support." ". . . . oh."

this boxes drabble rocks.

:: cheers on bev and laura, and Perkins (because), and amy and connie::

Update for my betas (nothin' but love fo' ya): Nearly done with Chapter Four and have made further revisions to the other three. I may be bothering you again in the next day or so.

You Are Warned.

What advice would you have for me about getting new writing assignments? All I've proven I can write is disability and television.

All I've proven I can write is disability and television.

And often they're the same thing!

Ba-DUM-bum! Wakka wakka.

More than I would like, yeah. And I'm not even talking about "House" this time.

Honor Thy Father

There had been no surprises when she packed up the first floor. Nothing had changed since her mother died ten years before. She could tell because nothing had changed since she’d walked out thirty years ago, either. Not even the bottles of vodka hidden everywhere.

She decided to repack the boxes in the attic. The Goodwill probably wouldn’t find anything surprising, but better safe than sorry.

At the bottom of one box she found a green jewelry box. Inside, a star-shaped medallion hung from a blue ribbon sprinkled with white stars. She was surprised to find tears in her eyes.