Things around here haven’t been all that great lately. Why? Because I accidentally drowned my three-month-old. No, not a baby…I’m a little old for birthing a baby, my friends. I drowned my MacBook Air and I’ve been discombobbled ever since. Yeah.
I spilled a half a cup of hot black tea with Splenda and fat-free half and half on my little darling. She screamed in pain (yeah, that’s what it sounded like, although perhaps what I heard was my very own shriek) and passed out. I flipped her upside down and gave her the Heimlich (with tea splatting everywhere), but she remained unconscious.
Knowing time was of the essence I texted my son, Mr. Fix-It Eagle Scout. He texted me back, offering his sincere sympathy but no firm advice. I quickly texted my son’s good buddy Buddha (yeah, he is pretty chill. And big. He’s big.). He works as a tech at a local Apple Store. His advice? Flip her upside down (so any remaining liquid doesn’t keep “rusting” her components) and leave her be. Hopefully, she’ll turn back on after a few days. Trusting his advice, that’s what I did.
For days I circled my baby. She looked like a metal pup tent sitting on my desk. After day three I tried to turn her back on, but I didn’t see any signs of life. She appeared dead, like really, really dead. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t write. So I left for a week’s vacation.
When I got back? I plugged my MacBook Air infant in and … she wheezed to life. Sure, she sounds like she has emphysema, but at least she’s conscious. Will she survive for very long? Sadly? No. Her components are compromised and it would take the equivalent of open-heart surgery (and the dollars that requires) to clean her up … with no guarantee she won’t die on me mid-novel at some future point.
So I broke down and purchased a new baby, another MacBook Air. But my new baby? She’s still wrapped in swaddling cellophane and lying in
a manger her box. I’m afraid to pick her up. Start all over.
Next week is the week of new beginnings for us Christians. The week of a precious baby’s birth. A miracle. Perhaps next week I’ll have the courage to pick up my new baby and begin again. We’ll see.