Oh my god, I’ve done it now, I’m in big whopping trouble.
I’m staying at my parents’ house while they’re away.
Why did they go away? Don’t they know I can’t be trusted?
I feel like I’m 16 and about to get busted … Of course I’m not 16 anymore, I’m nearly 30 and wondering why my parents didn’t have the courtesy to make me a little brother or sister to blame for my current predicament.
I’ve been staying here a week and today I woke up as usual and decided to turn my computer on and check my emails among other time wasting activities.
It’s not my computer I’m using it’s my father’s “baby”. He shopped for months before choosing the perfect giant sized computer with all the trimmings. He admires its multi-coloured light display which adorns the case from across the room. I see him putting a mental feather in his cap during each appraisal.
This is the first time I’ve had to turn it on; why did I shut it down? Dad never did.
The computer, which usually looks like a space station covered in Neon lights, is strangely dark and devoid of life.
Did you know that computers now come with stealth ON buttons? Yeah apparently Dad bought his computer from the Dell arm of the Pentagon …
I rub my fingers over the entire box; front and back and press anything button-like.
You think you know where this is going don’t you?
Nothing happens.
Wait … now one of the buttons is blinking yellow. But the gentle buzz of the computer fan is not heard. The screen stares back at me with blank nothingness. Okay that must be part of Dad’s flashy LCD light display which keeps me awake at nights …
Oh my god this is so embarrassing
My fiancée arrives … he’s good with computers … but he’ll never let me forget this one!
Timidly I say “Hey hon, you’re going to think it’s Christmas … but I can’t find the ON button on Dad’s computer.”
My fiancee gives me look like a young man being given a Porsche for free … it says “This is too good!”
He leaps over to the computer to assert his dominance as the alpha male …
He looks, he pokes and prods, he presses the flashing yellow button, he scratches his head and he grunts …
I smirk …
I smile …
I laugh …
Fiancee ignores me … I’ve been forgotten it seems.
My fiancée is challenged … the computer has effectively thrown the red cape of a matador and Fiancee charges in to solve the problem.
He opens the case carefully …
More head scratching …
More grunting …
Matador 1 … Bull 0
I go and check that my will and testament are in order …
I’ve killed Dad’s “baby”
Why couldn’t I have crashed the car … I don’t think that would have bothered him as much … I mean it’s insured.
I start to weigh up the options;
1. Write letter to Dad telling him of the death in the family and then pack a bag and leave town
2. Go to town to buy bigger screwdrivers to threaten the computer into giving up it’s secrets and then pack a bag and leave town
3. Just pack a bag and leave town
I’ve settled on option 1, I’m waiting for Dad’s reply.
Does anyone want to speak at my funeral?
