Dearly Beloved sometimes asks, “Are you writing a blog?” and if I answer in the affirmative, his second question is often, “Have I been a dumbass again?”
I answer, ever so tenderly, YES and YES.
Not that I’m kidding myself. Were the man a faster typist, he’d be busy full time compiling an encyclopedic tome: Dumbass Moves of the Little Woman. (Hey, I’d be so pleased with the word “little” that I’d help him shop it around.)
Neither of us is a genius when it comes to electronic technology. Remember when I took a few snapshots at the beach wedding and somehow ended up with the official wedding photographer–a stranger to me–as my Desktop wallpaper?
Son talked me through the removal, although he, too, was at a loss to explain how I managed to put it there.
DB is, I believe, even more technologically challenged than I am. For one thing, his two-fingered laborious typing gives him an air of. . . um, cluelessness.
Last week he composed a letter on his computer. I have blurred the personal information, so ignore the smeared look. On the screen, it appeared to be typed perfectly.
When it came out of the printer, however, there was one unfortunate surprise.
Hello, Son. . . ?