Amelia messed with the computer a few days ago and every time we went to use it a strange robotic man with a deep booming voice would repeat back to us our every move. He repeated every. single. thing. we. did.
It was super obnoxious.
The man did that thing. That thing where he said, all tough-like "she is never allowed on the computer again!" And I did that thing. That thing where I agreed with him knowing perfectly well she would be back on in no time flat.
It was really annoying though, the man wasn't wrong about that.
Through further investigation which involved a lot of clicking on stuff and reading stuff and not understanding stuff and then experimenting with different key combinations and stuff we discovered that the computer man's name was Bruce.
I am still baffled that this maddening voice has a name. He isn't even real, yet he has a name.
My mum is from Australia and she told me that whenever there was an uber irritating dolt of a guy around the young female Aussie's called him a 'bruce'.
Him to her: "Hey pretty lady. You wanna go out with me sometime and grab a soda pop?"
Her to him: "Um, no thanks.
Her to her friends: "Ugh, what a bruce."
So, after all is said and done Bruce is no longer yelling at me from my computer screen. It's a good thing too, because he was seriously grinding on my nerves.
What a bruce.
As my kids grow I am constantly amazed at how much of their father I see in each one of them. Take Amelia, for example, she hates kindergarten. Her father hated kindergarten. It was recommended to the man's mother that he repeat kindergarten because he wouldn't get out of the sand box and he was always grumpy. His mom said that when he graduated from high school he was still wanting to be in the sand box. And he was still grumpy.
Holden loves Star Wars, like his dad.
Cicely loves to read the same book over and over and watch the same movie over and over. Just like her dad.
And then there's Jack. He takes a simple instruction and puts a twist on it that no other rational person could have possibly imagined. Unless that person is perhaps his dad.
The other day I asked Jack to please stock all the bathrooms with toilet paper. I never thought he would have interpreted it the way he did. If I had thought he was going to interpret it the way he ultimately interpreted it I would have been more specific, I guess. I just didn't think it was necessary to be more specific since I figured it could only be done one way. Ultimately, I was wrong and apparently there was more than one interpretation.
He even put a little decorative gorilla figurine on top. You know, to showcase it. Now we can say it is 'staged' for a showing.
And now I must train Jack to think like a woman/mother would think. It's only taken 16 years to get the man to think how I would think so I guess I have lots to look forward too.
And, I'm sure the bruce part of this post has nothing to do with the toilet paper part of this post.
At least....... I think I am?