Gimme a Smile: Modern technology is so hard to figure out

Published 5:30 am Friday, February 27, 2026

As a child, I loved the Amelia Bedelia books by Peggy Parish. Amelia Bedelia was the literal-minded maid who, when asked to draw the curtains, would pull out a pen and paper. Or, when asked to dust the living room, she would produce a can of dusting powder to sprinkle all over the furniture. Her employers had to learn to ask her to close the curtains and undust the living room.

Let me introduce you to my own literal-minded personal assistant. Her name is Amy, and she is mystified by modern technology.

When I tell Amy that my mouse isn’t working and ask her to get me a new one, she ends up at the pet store. She wonders if I want a new pet mouse, or one to feed to a pet snake. Is she supposed to purchase the snake as well? Or, maybe I want a mouse to run through a maze as part of an experiment. In that case, the mouse should probably be white. This request might also cause some anxiety about her own job security. If my first reaction to a non-working mouse is to replace it, rather than do a job review or suggest areas of improvement, then what will happen if she doesn’t perform up to my standards in her job?

When I mention to Amy that I’ve noticed more and more Ring cameras lately, she nods in commiseration. “No wonder weddings are so expensive these days,” she says. “You need to hire a photographer whose only job is to photograph the rings.”

The internet poses a challenge to Amy. She’s watched enough basketball to know that the ball is supposed to go through the inside of the net. It seems redundant to her to focus on the inter part of the net, as if the outer part had any meaningful impact on the game. Maybe she needs to pay more attention to the rules.

Amy knows all about artificial intelligence. “I was a teacher once. Kids were always trying to copy their friends’ papers, making themselves look smarter than they were. They didn’t realize their teachers could see right through this farce.”

When I tell Amy that someone is coming to fix the cable TV, she’s not sure of her role in this process. She knows that a cable is another way to speak of a telegram, but this one must be in code. The “T” could stand for “telegram,” of course, but nobody knows what the “V” might stand for. Hopefully, the person in charge of fixing it will have things under control.

If I ask Amy to check on my phone port, she heads to the liquor cabinet. She wonders, “Do people have specific wines that they drink only when they talk on the telephone? It’s possible, I suppose.”

When I lament to Amy that my server went down, she expects to see a waiter lying on the floor in distress in the midst of a mess of broken plates of spaghetti and meatballs. Do we need to call an ambulance?

The most worrisome thing to Amy is when I ask her to boot up my laptop. She knows that boots go on feet, not laps. Do I expect her to sit me down and pile a bunch of boots on my lap? So confusing!

If there’s one thing that Amy knows for sure, it’s that a microwave is no good for surfing. Too small. But then she wonders if she might have gotten it wrong all along. Maybe I’m planning to send my new mouse out into the surf, so the microwave would be big enough for him to surf on after all.

In the end, Amy is a very valuable employee who keeps me on my toes. “It’s okay, Amy, I don’t need those pointe shoes after all. A pair of boots will do just fine.”

Peggy McKee Barnhill is a wife, mother, and author who writes cozy mysteries under the pen name “Greta McKennan.” She likes to look at the bright side of life.