Randy is afraid of the t.v. remote. “I’m not afraid of it,” he just now said to me. “It’s just too technologically advanced for me.” Yes, I’m the techie in the family. And no, he’s not really afraid of the remote. It’s just a complicated one and he can’t be bothered learning how to use it. It doesn’t control the changing of the channels themselves (only the power, volume, and dvd/game functions) so “Why bother?” is his attitude. Why bother indeed?
Still, I like to taunt him with it, making it dance or “sneak up on him” when he isn’t paying attention; I always allow him to discover it though. Once he pulled out his cable remote (he uses an older version while I, predictably, use the upgrade) and used it to fight off the t.v. remote as though we were sword fighting. At which point I made the t.v. remote plaintively cry in a little voice, “Why? Why don’t you like me, Randy? Why are you being so mean? I’ve never done anything to you! I’ve never even touched you! Why are you hitting me?”
You should have seen Randy’s face then. He paused, took another half-hearted swipe with his remote towards the t.v. remote in my hand, then set his down. Because really, what can you say to justify hitting someone who has never laid a button on you?
