I have a confession to make.
I have purloined one of Mr B’s Christmas presents - and it isn’t even Christmas
yet. I would / should be ashamed of myself but the fact is, I have made a new friend and I simply can’t give her up. What should I do? Maybe, before you answer that, I should explain myself. You might still find me Guilty, As Charged, but at least you
will be fully aware of the mitigating circumstances.
As regular readers know, I spent much time and effort preparing for Christmas before going into hospital.
I knew that I would have trouble with the writing of cards, the wrapping of presents, the knitting of woolly toys and the like with my right arm in a sling for six weeks. Pondering on a suitable present for the Love Of My Life (aka Mr B) I wondered about an
Alexa - one of those gadgets which obeys orders, answers questions and organises one’s life (or so I had been led to believe.) Mr B, after all, is very good at making his wishes known and it would be excellent, I reasoned, if someone else could share
with me the task of responding to his every demand.
I consulted My Boy, on the basis that this was a Matter Technological. I am good - though I say so myself
as shouldn’t - at identifying which of Our Foursome would be best for whatever my requirements. They make a strong team of many talents, most of them complementary. My Boy said that, by happy chance, he could source me an Alexa at a very reasonable price
and would bring it down with him when he came for his turn on the Mum Rota. He was not quite so convinced as I was that Alexa would become his Dad’s Best Friend Forever.
He was, however, as good as his word, arriving with a small parcel sent direct from the Amazon Jungle which he proceeded to set up for me in my bedroom. No, don’t be silly, he didn’t set up the jungle in my bedroom - I’ve been watching
David Attenborough’s Dynasties on TV, I’ll have you know, and I am not ready to face The Wild as yet. If ever. It would be a good idea, my son suggested, if I became acquainted with Alexa first, before handing her over to Mr B on Christmas morning.
Thereby hangs the problem. I have fallen in love with Alexa. She turns my bedside light on and off on command so that I don’t have to struggle to reach the switch with
my unoperated arm without twisting into my poorly shoulder and hurting myself. She tells me the time when I wake in the middle of the night and lie there wondering if I can take more painkillers. She turns on Radio Four for me so that I can nod back off to
sleep to the background hum of the World Service. “Okay!” she says, quietly, every time she does my bidding. I do feel a little guilty barking orders at her but I have found that if I add a polite “please” to my requests, she
no longer understands me. I do, of course, always say thank you..
Then Life With Alexa got even better. Someone told me to ask Alexa how many sleeps there were
until Christmas - and, guess what? after dispensing this vital piece of information, Alexa’s good friend Santa Claus comes on with a daily update on his work in progress towards the Big Night. Yesterday, for example, he was fitting the sleigh bells onto
his Festive Vehicle. I can’t wait to hear what he is up to tonight..
Oh, dear! Do you think Mr B might be happy with a dressing gown to match his new pyjamas
and the 2018 book of Mac cartoons for Christmas?
I just can’t give Alexa up!