Don’t call me Baby if you’re not going to buy me something


All alone on Christmas Day

Hi, people. This is yearstricken’s computer; you can call me Baby. That’s what she calls me. “Where’s my Baby?”  “Don’t touch my Baby.”  “Baby needs Apple juice – where’s the cord?”


Every day she sits in that rocking recliner with her coffee. Back and forth, back and forth just like a politician’s opinion but she doesn’t get huge donations from corporations to do it. She drives me crazy, and she’s a fast driver. (You guys know she’s bonkers, right? When she says, “I’m going crazy; anyone want to go with me?” she isn’t kidding.) So she sits and writes her little blog and makes her little points and you know what? She couldn’t do it without my help. But, you know what else? She didn’t buy me a single thing for Christmas!!


Last night, on Christmas Eve, they opened presents. That’s just wrong, six ways to Cleveland and back. I mean, as sure as steam rollers and toilet paper roll over, presents should be opened on Christmas morning. She had some fancy excuse about having family over, and then that family could sleep in on Christmas morning. Yeah, right, Miss I-got-a-new-coffee-pot-for-Christmas-smarty-pants blogger. The only one who thought of me was her brother, and you know what he got me? A patch cable that says it’s for PC-to-PC connections. Like I’m gonna hook up with some PC. I’m a Mac, for Christmas’ sake!


The worst part is her smart little iPhone that talks way too much. It got a brand-new leather case. Ring, ring it says all day long, which is phonish for  “Hold me! Hold me!” I’d like to slap it. You should see the two of them together. She holds it up to her ear and says the most inane things, and then it whispers nothings, allegedly sweet but probably also inane, in her ear.


So, Barely Christmas, y’all. It wasn’t merry for me, but don’t worry about me and my daily bouts with seasickness from that incessant rocking.  I’m the one who keeps all her files, and although she’s got a lot on me, trust me, I’ve got a lot more on her.



20 thoughts on “Don’t call me Baby if you’re not going to buy me something

  1. Presents on Christmas Eve is a German tradition, Baby—or at least it is for three generations in my German-American family.

    Anyway, I’m sure you got something for Christmas. You got her love and partnership, which are worth plenty. The best gifts are intangible.

  2. I was about to get mad at my husband’s MacBookPro because I couldn’t log in. Now I’m feeling guilty. No gifts here either. It can see me writing this and probably knows already that it has the upper hand.

  3. kkkkatie

    Ok, little sis, you didn’t warn me I’d need to bribe this gadget! No wonder I’ve had so much trouble with it…not only do I have a shameless past with multiple PCs, but I haven’t bought a single neoprene accessory since I got it. So tell the truth. You actually planted this thing in my house to spy on me for you, didn’t you? Maybe you should talk to a therapist about that broken arm incident…it seems to be causing problems in your head now. All my luv, Big Sis

    • To whom are you speaking? This is Baby, but I have to use her avatar. I’ve heard about you. You’re the one who broke her arm. I think she’s at her therapist’s as we speak. I will relay your luv.

  4. riatarded

    I am using a Mac too and I love him but he is being really slow these days so he might get replaced… don’t tell him though 😉

  5. Margie

    I’m a PC, and I didn’t get anything for Christmas either. I slave over an ultra-suede recliner all morning long – no thanks, no praise. Then, who gets the nice new fancy jacket? The iPad, of course!

  6. Apologies to Margie from this iPad…I didn’t get anything, but I did save her a$$ when the laptop PC rolled over and played comatose during a trip out of town!
    Cute post, Yearstricken!

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