At 0600 precisely, the alarm starts loudly blaring a song.
“Alexa,” I say sharply, from a dead sleep. “Turn off alarm.”
Blaring continues.
“Alexa,” we both say commandingly, and almost in unison, “STOP!”
Unfazed, the song blares on. Loudly. Surely the neighbors can hear this?
“Alexa, turn down volume,” I order with my 500’ voice. The little blue light ring illuminates, but insolently, the song continues at its stentorian volume level.
“Alexa, turn on bathroom lights,” Linda says with her best teacher voice. Maybe with the little beast’s attention diverted to another task, it will thereafter be able to perform its actual duty.
Bathroom light goes on. Song continues. Loudly.
Feet hit the floor. “I’m just going to stretch your neck, you insubordinate little box of microchips,” my inside voice says.
I stride powerfully around the bed and as my hands come up to reach for its scrawny throat (well….power cord) I notice that it is NOT the little blue-ringed black troglodyte troublemaker that is singing that now even louder song.
It’s one of our mobile phones. Heh heh.
Stupid `Lexa.
#firstworldproblems
