March 22, 2012

There once was an iPad 3…

This past weekend I had the unfortunate experience of being with my mother when she got her new iPad… I should clarify that the iPad itself wasn’t what bothered me. What bothers me so much is when she and my father buy things and then expect me to teach them how to use it. I don’t have a data chip in my brain that receives a constant stream of data from some incognito Apple satellite…

I promised myself before she got it that I wasn’t going to help. I don’t have an iPad, so why would I want to spend an evening show her how to use hers? That’s her m/o. Make me teach her how to use her stuff then when I want one myself there’s an issue… Such is the case with parents. Like I said, I made a promise to myself that I wasn’t going to be her instructor this time.

But guess who ended up with egg on their face? Me.

No sooner than we left the store she was craning around in her seat asking me questions like I’ve had fifty iPads in my life. There was nothing I could do for her, and when I tell her I don’t know she gets frustrated and thinks it’s because I don’t want to help… It could never possibly be because I actually don’t know, could it?