Sometimes people doubt things that I write about. Mostly when it comes to Husband #1. How many of you have often thought, “poor guy, has to live with that crazy woman.” And to you I say, “Please, come live in my house for a few hours, and you will see that I am crazy for a reason.”
Let me take you back a few years, when the light in our closet was broken. You had to keep pulling on the string to get the bulb to turn on. It took at least five tries to accomplish this goal. And every morning, when Husband #1 got for work at 6 a.m., he would attempt to turn the light on, and he would wake me up in the process. FIX THE LIGHT!!!! STOP WAKING ME UP EVERY SINGLE MORNING!!!!
So I fixed the light. And peace was restored to our home.
Now it is his alarm clock. If he goes to sleep too late at night because of some sporting event — and that isn’t a euphemism, he is actually watching a sporting event — his alarm scares him in the morning. So he ends up jumping up and knocking it on the floor, where it continues to wail its morning greeting. So pleasant. It is a miracle that I haven’t killed him yet.
Yes, some of you might think the miracle is that he hasn’t killed me yet, but the guy has never had to do his own laundry or cook a meal. Yes, I am patting myself on the back.
And now we have Alexa. She is the dot version. Small, inexpensive, and now she is Husband #1’s problem. At first I thought of returning her, but the laughter that has resulted from their conversations has been so therapeutic that she is here to stay. First, he forgets that he has to say “Alexa,” so we hear him yelling at the inanimate hockey-puck-looking contraption on the kitchen counter. “Play Jewish music.” Louder. “PLAY JEWISH MUSIC.” Um, dad, you have to say Alexa first. “Alexa, play Jewish music.” Alexa takes one look at this guy and says, “I’m sorry, I don’t know that one.”
Poor Husband #1. He just wants to hear some music. I can’t stop laughing. The kids can’t stop laughing. If Alexa was real, she would be laughing as well.
Unfortunately, the only person not laughing is Husband #1. We had turned Alexa off for Shabbos — well, the kids did, because I have no idea how she works — and Husband #1 came home from shul. “Alexa,” he said calmly, “Please play havdalah.” No response from Alexa because, well, she was turned off (for many reasons). “Alexa, please play havdalah.” Nope. Nothing. Dad, we turned her off for Shabbos. So, Son #1 turned her back on and then Husband #1 started again. “Play havdalah.” Dad, you have to say Alexa first. “Alexa, please play havdalah.”
And it was as if she knew what I was thinking. She responded, “I am sorry, I don’t know that one.” We couldn’t stop laughing.
Poor Husband #1. I used to be the only female in the house to give him a hard time and now he has Alexa baiting and mocking him. See, all it takes is living with him for a little bit and even the electronics catch on.
Alexa is an amazing invention, if not just for the purpose of aggravating technologically challenged individuals. In the morning, Son #1 often asks me what the weather is like, and unless I have gone outside to warm up his car (yes, I am that kind of mother) I have no idea what the temperature is. All he has to say is, “Alexa, what is the weather like in Teaneck?” and she miraculously responds. It’s amazing!!!
Of course, wouldn’t it be nice if when your kids ask Alexa a question, she would respond, “Ask you mother, she knows more than I do!” But I am assuming that a man invented Alexa so he could have another woman around who knows all the answers.
As for Alexa and Husband #1, I am hoping that even though their relationship has gotten off to a rocky start, they will eventually start to understand each other. Anything is possible!
Banji Ganchrow of Teaneck is happy that Alexa knows who Rick Springfield is, so she can be transported back to the ’80s any time she wants.