Being an iPod widow sucks ass.

Abby: Mom, when is it Christmas again?
Me: Not for a long time. Why?
Abby: I want an iPod.
Me: Huh and furthermore, wha?
Abby: Please Mommy. Please can I have an iPod of my very own?
Mike: Do you even know what an iPod is?
Abby: Yeah, you can listen to music.

So yeah, Abby already knows more about iPods than her father an actual iPod owner.

I guess I was deluding myself when I thought that conversations with Michael that included the word iPod would drop significantly after Christmas. Boy howdy was I wrong about that. You see Mike is the exact opposite of tech savvy. He is completely devoid of savvy when it comes to anything electronic. I still sometimes have to tell him how to turn on the xBox. No joke. At one point this week he sat at the computer with head in hands and confessed the following to me: "This is way too much for me. I'm in over my head. I have no business owning an iPod." My response? "Umm, yeah I know. This is exactly what I tried to tell you before Christmas." But of course "mp3 player" doesn't carry quite the same street cred as an iPod now does it?

Part of the problem stems from the fact that I hate to teach Mike anything about the computer. I'm not proud of this, but I have no patience for it at all. I'm not claiming to be any computer whiz kid, but I know enough to get by. Mike can just barely get on the internet and that was after I showed him how at least a dozen times. When it comes to iPods I have zero knowledge. Before Christmas I'd never actually held one in my hands. I have no idea how to use iTunes, put songs on the iPod or take them off. Yet that doesn't stop Michael from bombarding me with questions all freaking evening no matter how many times I explain to him I know nothing (that would be nothing) about his stinkin' iPod.

Now, truth be told, I could probably figure out how to use it backwards and forwards in very little time if (and that's a big if) I was given time to use it without him peering over my shoulder asking 50 billion questions. These days I can't seem to get near the computer. Abby's on vacation from school and wants to play her Rolie Polie Olie game. Then Michael gets home for work and I guess thinks I've spent the day at iPod school because he parks himself at the computer and starts firing questions at me. Now those who know me know I don't like to share the computer. At all. So this is killing me. Giving up my computer time for someone who doesn't know how to use it to it's full potential is killing me. Plus, tonight he suggested after the kids were in bed we should play some Simpson's Road Rage. Great, I'm game. Sounds like fun. So I shoo Abby off to bed and while my back was turned he's slipped off to whisper sweet nothings to his iPod. That was at 9 pm. Two and a half hours later he reappeared to say good night. Usually I'm the one telling him I'll just be a minute and then losing all track of time writing or reading blogs or just mindlessly surfing. I gotta tell ya I'm not liking this shoe on the other foot business. Actually he did pop out to the living room at one point to ask me this:

Mike: What would you name a playlist with songs from Neil Diamond and Dan Fogelberg in it?
Me: Ummm crap?
Mike: Come on it's good music.
Me: Okay, how about I'm an old man?
Mike: That's so not helpful.

Just for the record I do love me some Neil Diamond. In fact I even tried to get tickets for his show last time he was in the area. (I like him, but I don't $200 per ticket like him.) Also Saving Silverman is one of my favourite movies. I was maybe, just maybe, riding the bitter bus a tiny bit.