Sunday, March 2, 2014

Remote access

We have had a problem with our fancy, big screen television for a while now.
The kid with unique skills
It takes all four remotes, a cuss word or two and turning it off and on again at least once to get it to come on.
The Google application won't work.
The Satellite has to be persuaded to operate.
If there's a disc in the player, it defaults to the player no matter what we say.
We haven't been able to figure out what's wrong.
Marc has changed the batteries in the "universal" remote. He's looked for answers in the instruction manuals.
I've tried to learn the proper sequence of buttons. I tap my heels together and purse my lips every time I want to see my favorite show. I hold my breath.
We have started just leaving the dang thing on once we get it going so we don't have to go through the hassle more than once a day.
It's been a trial.
I, of course, think my husband has somehow made it more complicated than it has to be.
He thinks I've messed it up when I've tried pushing all of the buttons, hard, multiple times trying to find the sweet spot.
However, just this week we had our little 18-month-old granddaughter visiting from California.
She's a precious and tiny girl who understands the value in a remote.
She started picking them up and carting them around.
We didn't stop her because we figured what harm could she do?
She pushed a few buttons.
Suddenly the TV came on, clearly and without any fuss.
We all looked at her.
"Claire!" I said, "How did you do that? Can you do that again?"
She grinned at me.
She's really a cutie pie with big eyes and a sweet, toothy smile.
Unfortunately she can't talk and I bet by the time she can, she won't remember how she did it.

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