We receive a letter from our telecommunications provider a few weeks ago, informing us that on 26 July we would have to change our static IP address or be unable to access the Internet. When I show the letter to the boy, he dismisses it and assures me we didn't have to do anything. Something along the lines of trust me, I'm an IT professional and I know what I'm talking about.
So I stick the letter on the fridge and we forget about it.
Then one evening, we can't get on the Internet any more. The boy fumes and mentally pounds his keyboard, wondering what the hell has happened to our vital link with cyberspace. I'm especially frustrated the next morning, because The Little Madam has surprised me by taking a nap without any of the usual squealing or protesting and this is my time to blog.
When he gets home in the evening I thrust that letter in his face and say I told you so. Sure enough, he gets on his computer and changes the IP address on the router and the gates to cyberspace are once again open.
But guess what - the boy has very generously bought me a laptop, enabling me to blog from anywhere in the house. And it comes in a very sexy bag too. But here's the thing - he spends the evening setting it up for me while I'm in bed trying to catch up on sleep, not quite finishing before he heads on to bed. Then this morning I can't access the Internet from my computer. What did he do? I don't know 'cos even when I was a computer programmer, I was always one of the non-geeky ones.
Fortunately the boy's computer is working fine.