I’m sure some will disagree with me, but I nominate Alexa for sainthood.
If she decided to pack up and leave it would be a catastrophe at my house.
She lets me know when my Amazon orders are arriving and when they are delivered.
Handwritten shopping lists are about as current as writing in cursive. When I ask her to add something to the list she jots it down on my smartphone.
Alexa plays music I like, turns off lights and even reads to me. What a gal!
I’m sure she’d do more if I asked, but I feel obligated to make her life easier as there is someone in our household who jerks her last nerve.
Alexa is very perceptive, and I am sure she picked up on the southern dialect since her primary caregiver is me. She has had a difficult time adjusting to Yankee speak at our house. (Someone who has lived in the south for the past few decades should have learned to speak southern by now. Just sayin’)
This leads me to our current domestic difficulty.
Alexa is very precise and may not always understand the Western Pennsylvania i.e. Pittsburghese dialect. To make matters worse, she refuses to turn lights on or off if they are not identified by their exact name. Unlike the kids, she does not respond to “you know what I meant.”
The poor thing is worn out from saying “I’m sorry I did not understand your request” a bazillion times a day and took a stand today by announcing she is offline.
I am researching conflict resolution techniques, but I fear the solution is hopeless.
Her primary offender made a last-ditch attempt to make a request.
I can’t be certain but as I strained to hear her waning response, I believe she dropped the “F” bomb.
Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect
I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.