A New Toy

Jimmy has been pining after a particular GPS system for weeks.  He has spent a number of hours that I do not want to know researching the various models and their features. 

Well GPS has arrived and he may as well be married to the thing.  Let me paint a picture of the town we live in.  One stoplight. One grocery store.  One school K-12 for the entire county.  We have two things that people would consider a part of normal civilization:  Subway and Family Dollar. That's so hard for me to say with a straight face.  And no offense to the dollar store fans, but I'm disappointed that that particular store had to be the one they chose.

There is no guessing where anything is in our town, and should you be new here, you take one drive down Main and you'll find whatever it is that you are looking for.  Be careful not to blink or else you'll be on your way out of town.

But the GPS.  The new baby.  Jimmy has used it to program in every.single.location that he has gone to in the last two days.  This wouldn't be a huge deal if it didn't take him three times as long to get somewhere.  We can see the Subway from our house-I think it took him a half an hour to go there, order, and come back by the time he was done messing with having his GPS mistress boss him around.  And no, I'm not bitter that he would never take directions from me in a million years, or for a million dollars, but that he has fallen under the spell of the sultry robot lady's voice. It happens.

I think he is making excuses to get out of the house so he can program the thing.  And I'll give him this: it is neat.  And I am impressed.  The thing plays music, tells you speed limits, lets you call someone over the radio, and best of all-it gives you directions.

If you knew the danger our marriage was in anytime we go to an unfamiliar city and try to find something, you'd know that this was certainly a wise purchase.

If I could only figure out how to program the thing with grocery lists and friendly reminders about the trash, then we'd be set.