My teenager’s universe turned dark today. “No power!” he squealed.
“Well, here’s your Spotify.” I handed him a boombox.
He gawked at the mammoth of an apparatus. Incomprehensible dials and oversized buttons. A cockpit had less controls! Heedlessly turning knobs, powerless against screeching static, he ached for Alexa.
I gave him a newspaper. “Your News Feed.”
His fingers fumbled with the oversized pages. After a failed conquest to find the Sports section, he chucked the crumpled mess on the floor and shambled off to bed. Napping didn’t require electricity.
With a smirk, I flipped the breaker switch and watched The Crown.