southern

The Day Alexa Decided She’d Had Enough

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.

A No-count Day

No-count – a word southerners use to describe a person, who has a shortage of desirable qualities. A slur that is more politically correct than the other passive/aggressive phrase we are famous for and proud of.

No-count covers anything from good-for-nothing to shiftless to borderline dishonesty.

The phrase covers a multitude of sins. My grandmother used it to describe a family member she didn’t like, most often male. I can’t recall hearing her refer to a female as no-count.  She never elaborated on what manner of sins cast a person into the no-count category.

I expanded its usage to cover the days I don’t want to do ANYTHING, but read –  maybe nap and not answer the door. Considering my appearance on a no-count day, it’s probably best I don’t answer the door.

It’s Friday; a slow drizzling rain is falling; I don’t have to go anywhere. I think I hear a no-count day beckoning me.

After a long, hot morning shower, I tug on my saggy, baggy sweats and that is the extent of my personal grooming for the day

Best not to text me when I’m having a no-count day, I probably won’t respond. I don’t watch television; the listings are awful; they are no-count too.

Trashy food is a definite go. We stopped buying Cheetos because they remind us of you-know-who (another huge reason to dislike him.) My junk food of choice is demoted and I am stuck with pretzels.

Anyone who expects dinner would be well advised to hit home delivery for take-out. Home cooked meals rarely turn out to be appetizing on no-count days.

I’ve decided to forego watching the news today. No need to mess up a perfect no-count day.

 

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