When I buy an electronic device why can’t the charger come all assembled with it? Why, Apple, why?
Why do we now have to purchase the cube separate from the cable? It’s making my life a living hell. We used to have a shortage of cubes. But now we have a shortage of cables. And my kids leaving them behind everywhere we go isn’t helping matters.
Our house has turned into one giant charging station. We have five kindle fires, one kindle reader, two laptops, three iPhones, one Samsung Galaxy, three iPod touches, four Fitbits, and one set of Bluetooth ear phones. That’s a lot of electricity.
And every single one of those apparatuses is usually dead. As a door nail. I. Can. Not.
Plug it in and let it charge. Every time I pick up one of these gadgets it only has a sliver of red left in the battery icon. Plug. It. In.
Then I love when one of my kids picks up one of these doohickeys and discovers it’s dead. They get really upset and then put it right back down where they found it. Which is usually right next to the charger. But never plug it back in.
It’s right freaking there. It would take you two seconds. Less than two seconds. But I’ll be damned if I’m plugging it in for them.
But I’ll also be damned if bedtime rolls around and someone doesn’t have one of the bazillion thingamabobs we own to lull them to sleep. Because we all know I’m not doing it.
I feel like Wilma Flintstone and Betty Rubble every time I yell, “charge it!”.
When my brothers and I first got cell phones my Dad would leave the same message every single time he called one of us. “I don’t know why you kids have these damn contraptions if you never answer them.” I feel the same way about my kids now.
“I don’t know why you kids have these damn contraptions if you never charge them.” I actually say that. Out loud. In my Dad’s voice.
I turned into my mother a few years ago. But turning into my Dad is something I didn’t see coming. These damn kids don’t know how damn lucky they are. Dammit.