"Hey, Genius," I said, "you forgot to put the cap back on the marker." Then a half-beat later, I noticed the spelling and made yet another mental note to go get myself a brain scan. I didn't bother to ask her what it was about, because Lo tells me she's a genius about ten times a day. I figured it was just a variation on the theme. Later, we were on the way to her early-morning Math help session, because Genius is having trouble with Geometry, and she asked me what I use my iPad for at work. I told her I check my Conley Center email on it and look at Pinterest. She then launched into her routine lecture about what a waste it is for me to even have one, because I don't use it enough or properly, and how selfish I am not to let her play on it. This, too, I hear at least ten times per, so I tuned her out.
I got the iPad for graduation in May, and I don't want anyone's grubby fingers on it. I've been generous with my laptop for the past few years and, as a result, it's the color of Cheetos and so crumb-encrusted I have to hammer the 'return' key. I have very few things in the world that are mine alone, and this has been a complaint for a long, long time--since I reached, then passed, the age where I thought I could finally have have a nice bed spread or my own underwear. NO ONE has the password to my iPad, except for Georgia. Giving it to her is like giving it to myself. And the password is something NO ONE would figure out in a million years. Just ask Georgia.
So...I dropped Lo off at school, hit Duncan Donuts for coffee, and headed to my counseling office. When I got here, I took out my iPad and set it up on my desk. Here is what I saw:
And where my wallpaper was the Apple-supplied Tiki motif last night when I went to bed, it had been changed to this:
Oh, Tania. She IS a geniuss..I mean genius. What did you expect? She comes from good stock.
ReplyDeleteHow in the world did she figure it out?! ~V.
ReplyDelete