Every spring, we go to visit my in-laws, and nearly every spring, my father-in-law has a different computer than the last time we were there. He claims it's because "the old one just didn't do what I needed it to," but my mother-in-law usually follows that up with a whispered, "He's always trying to cram 40 pounds of potatoes in a 5 pound sack."
Well, I married Mr. Potato Crammer, Jr.
I've written before about my husband's personal mission to own every piece of music that has ever been recorded. (By the way, if you have a copy of "King Tutunkahmen Sings the Christmas Classics," let me know.) Said bloated music collection has resided quite happily on our iMac until Nov. 10. Why do I remember the date, you ask? Because that's the last time I was able to access my email. Here's what happened.
Nov. 10: The Hubster comes home with a box and says, "I bought an external hard drive to back up iTunes." I nod. How naive of me.
Nov. 11: Hubster casually mentions that the hard drive appears to have interfered with some of the other software on the computer, but not to worry, he can fix it. I notice that the computer sounds like a cricket on methamphetamines.
Nov. 12: Hubster comes home with another box and says, "I bought another external hard drive to back up the first hard drive." I begin to worry.
Nov. 13: I hear Hubster on the phone with the Apple help desk. "Hi, Brian, I'm having some trouble with my iMac..." I notice that the computer actually makes a grunting sound when booted up.
Nov. 14: Hubster comes home with yet another box and says, "I bought another external hard drive to back up the first two." (I swear I am not making this up.) Hubster spends 2 hours talking to his new friend, Customer Service Brian.
Nov. 15: When I attempt to use the computer, I get the Apple spinning beach ball of death. (For you PC users, this is the Mac equivalent of the the Windows blue screen of death.) Hubster calls Brian at Apple again. "Hey, Brian, it's me. How's the weather there? Yeah, I need more help..."
Nov. 16: Hubster comes home with another box, but this time he says, "I'm going to install a new operating system." I swear I can see the computer actually try to move off the desk in a fruitless attempt to run away.
Nov. 17: I hear Hubster on the phone. "The Brianator! You da man! Hey, how did your mom's hernia surgery go?..." The computer is on life support. I go searching for those Valiums that were left over from the time Hubster "fixed" the air conditioning unit.
Nov. 18: Hubster takes the computer to the nearest Apple store for a little R&R, and returns home with a big box. He says, "Merry Christmas. I bought you a new iMac." I weep tears of joy and promise to love, honor, and cherish my new computer as long as we both shall live.
Nov. 19: I rue the fact that I did not grab up that big box and hide it with my chocolate stash, because Hubster proceeds to set up the new computer, and says, "Hey! This has parental controls!" OH DEAR GOD. Hubster + Control = Very Bad Outcome For Everyone Else In Our House.
...to be continued....