Christmas Present

Other Brother called about two weeks before Christmas and wanted to know if I, along with Brother of Many Surgeries, would be willing to go in together and buy Mother a Kindle for Christmas. One of his twenty-something co-workers suggested that when Other Brother was whining about what to get Mother, who needs absolutely nothing.

Even though I saw my life pass before my eyes, I said yes. You see, I cannot recall many presents Mother has received in my lifetime that was met with approval.

I knew this would be a perfect gift: her vision is poor due to age and Macular Degeneration (although, thank God that has remained stable for years).  The Kindle is back lit and you can enlarge the font for easier reading.

She was gracious about it on Christmas Day, but she didn't fool me none. No sirree bob.

I took it back home with me to download some books I thought she'd like, adjust the font, etc. Because really, never having one myself, I didn't know much about them either. (Side note, I got one for Christmas too!)

With dread, I took the loaded Kindle back to Mother. I explained she didn't need to know but a couple of things. Before I could even finish the sentence, she started a run on. "I can't remember what  you say, I'll never be able to do this, I can't read anymore anyway, my mind won't stay focused, you all have wasted your money, blah blah blah..."

I glazed over. When she finished ranting, I made her push the button to turn it on. I had already adjusted the back light to the brightest setting, so I didn't mention it. I showed her a couple of font sizes and had her chose the one she liked best.

I picked a book, opened it, showed it to her. Then I had her turn the Kindle off. Then turn it back on. I explained that's all she had to do, when she turned it back on, the book would be wherever she had left it, and she could resume reading.

She informed me she could never remember all that.

I do believe real steam came outta my ears.

"All you remember is one thing. You push the button for on and the same button for off."

"I can't even remember what I just read."

I blinked. "What did you just read?"

"Something about Carol talking to her daddy because her sister had told on her."

Sheesh.  The thing was only on, like, ten seconds.

It's too bad she can't read anymore.

I vowed to never, EVER mention the word Kindle in front of her again.

A few days later she called and said she couldn't turn it off. After much discussion, I realized she had left it on without turning a page and it had gone to "sleep". Instead of trying to explain it to her over the phone, I went to her house and showed her what had happened.

She began a run on sentence. See paragraph #6.

She told me the other day she just had not had time to read much, but I charged up the Kindle anyway, as it had been used a little.

Will she succumb to the ease and joy of reading on this thing that will make it easy-peasy?

Film at eleven.

That way you won't have to read about it.