Thursday, January 7, 2016

The Mystery Of the Green Goo

Diana and I have a very strict rule against playing on screens during school nights.  No screens during the week. Ever. Unless Diana is tired. Or I’m working late. Or we want to watch “Making a Murderer.” Or we want to eat in peace. Or you ask nicely. Or you are a child named Elijah or Luca.

Yeah, we are weak sauce.

So imagine our horror when the family Mac went down for the count. Dead. Gone. Black screen that no amount of control/option/esc could revive.

How would Diana post anti gun messages on Facebook? How would Eli watch that Youtube family who is exactly like our family? How would Luca do the things that he does on the internet? How would I be able to check,, and It’ at the same time?

Diana took the dead computer to our local Evanston bespoke computer repair artisans. After a quick look, they called with the culprit. The insides of our Mac were “Coated with a sticky green goo. As if someone recently poured a green liquid over it.” Makes sense.

The cost to repair the goo equated to purchasing a new computer, plus a backup computer, plus the GNP of Legoland.

I was mildly frustrated. And felt the only way this mild frustration feeling could go away would be to find the child responsible and destroy them.

I sat them down and told them the lie that they wouldn’t get in trouble if they admitted to it. I simply wanted to know. You know, for research purposes only.

Would you believe that neither Elijah nor Luca has ever consumed a green liquid in their life? No sir. They couldn’t even commit to ever consuming any kind of liquid. Green or otherwise. Oh, no. I don’t drink. Drinking is for suckers.

And even more delightfully, they would secretly roll over on each other when alone.

“You know, Mom. I distinctly saw Luca waving a green smoothie over your keyboard. He was saying something like, ‘That’ll show her.’”

 “Mom. You know who likes green goo? Eli. Why I believe he is web manager for a green goo fan site on the internet.”

But my favorite is how they felt the need to deflect attention onto Schuyler, their babysitter.

“Mom. Mom. I don’t want to get Schuyler in trouble, but she does drink a lot of green tea from Dunkin Donuts. And she hates you.”

So the chances we will find the truth are low. In the end, we fixed the computer and but a moratorium on ever, ever, ever touching it again. Unless Diana is tired.

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