Monday, December 17, 2007

Next Christmas, I hope to get salad tongs.

My husband is a good man, but can get a little carried away in the control department. Imagine a cross between King Henry VIII and a German Shepherd police dog, and you'll get the idea.

So here we were with this new computer with the dreaded "Parental Controls." Hubster immediately set himself up as Grand Poobah System Administrator and gave the rest of us Menial Serf accounts. He even assigned us our passwords, and then wouldn't tell us what they were. I had to threaten to cook for him if he didn't tell me my password. And then when I finally got logged on, I couldn't access any of the usual functions because, as the little message box kept telling me, "You have not been granted access to this feature. Contact your Grand Poobah System Administrator." Oh, I was going to contact him, alright. You betcha.

The kids had it even worse. I think the only access Hubster granted them was to view their avatars (which he had chosen). I have to admit, though, that this made life much easier for me, as I could keep giving the same answer to the kids' issues:
I can't get on email!
Talk to your father.
I can't see my photos!
Talk to your father.
Why can't I use Garage Band?
Talk to your father.
The printer is on fire.
Talk to your father.
A meteorite just landed on our cow.
Talk to your father.
I think I might be a Democrat.
Talk to your father. But stay out of his reach.

Now, some people will say that I should have been a submissive wife and let Hubster run wild with his newfound administrative power. I say, the Apostle Paul never mentioned the computer in his epistles, so I'm pretty sure he never meant for women to have to ask their husbands - er, I mean, Grand Poobah System Administrators, for permission to crop a photo.

You would think things couldn't get any worse, computer-wise. Oh yes, they very much could. And they very much did.

Hubster came home and uttered those seven little words that every wife fears: "I bought a new external hard drive." [Insert music from Jaws here.] Our children wept.

For the next couple of weeks, we hardly saw the Hubster, what with his having to rebuild his entire iTunes library, thanks to the new hard drive. By this time, Hubster and Customer Service Brian had spent so much time on the phone together, they had developed guy names for each other. "Hey, Knot Head, you girlie man! It's Chumpy. Quit pickin' your nose and help me out with this computer."

So here we are, several weeks after the purchase of my new computer. I still can't send emails or upload photos, but I did get some good news last week. Computer Service Brian/Knot Head informed Hubster that in order for me to do some of the things I needed to do, Hubster was going to have to grant me access as an administrator. Kind of a middle-management Poobah, I guess. It nearly killed Hubster to have to check that little box, but he did it. And I owe a debt of gratitude to the Apple programmer who set things up that way, who most certainly is a woman and a wife.

As much as I'd like to fix my email problem, I don't have time right now. I've got to clean house. Knot Head and his family are coming to spend Christmas week with us.

And he's bringing Hubster a new hard drive.


Anonymous said...

Poor kids, I'd of wept too! LOL

Glad you have administrative privileges now! hehe


chris said...

In a way,you are lucky. In our house hubby knows very little about computers and will quite happily fiddle with the insides while they are still plugged in and running.
I am left to sort it out when it is on its last legs so he can have another go at tweeking another time.
My computer is totally off limits to all (I saved for it and built it and it is going to be buried alongside me when I finally go).

Chris said...

lol leave it to dem Dem kids :)

Katy said...

Yeah, I know this is of no comfort after the fact...but had I found your blog a few days sooner, I would certainly have cast my vote. I'm sitting here with ds#2 on my lap. He has a cold and won't stop crying because his nose hurts; of course, the crying makes it worse, but he keeps on crying. I'm about to cry. But perusing your blog dried up my tears and made me laugh! (

ShackelMom said...

I came here by way of ' It Coulda Been Worse' and I am glad I did! Funny! We've got Macs and my husband is a techie, so I totally understand every word and thought it was hilarious, and so did my hubster! Keep it up!

And I do hope you figure out how to have some private, un-twiddled with space on YOUR Mac!

Junosmom said...

My husband has his own (work) computer, so doesn't touch the computers at home. His contribution to household computers is to stand over my shoulder and snort in disgust at the number of icons on my desktop and exclaim, "HOW can you stand that?" I nearly slugged him. He doesn't have two teens and a five year old downloading God-knows-what and taking photos with my camera and clogging the whole thing. Can you tell I'm a teesy bit edgy about this?

Anonymous said...

TC: Honestly, I didn't think you could get funnier than your parents and the locked truck, but these two did it! I'm crying with laughter! So sorry for your situation. Maybe a hidden laptop is your answer. Thanks for the entertainment! Hope Knothead has good table manners!