Are You Mad?
I got the call about 5:40 yesterday afternoon while I was still at the office. Papa, Cici said in a frantic voice, I left my laptop somewhere at school. Can you go get it? Where will I look for it, I asked her? I don't know, she responded. Maybe the resource center. I just can't remember where I left it. But I know it isn't in my locker.
I left the office immediately because the school shuts down at 6:00. There was almost no one in the resource center, and the man who is there every day said he had not seen a laptop in a pink case. Another man, who I don't recall seeing at the school previously, offered to go to the office with me to see if someone might have turned it in. He had the key to the office and went inside and looked all around, finding nothing. I looked around on the table outside the office where some school books and other things were stacked. There was nothing there either.
I called Cici to let her know. She was mortified. Can you check above my locker, she asked? I knew where to find her locker but didn't remember the number. She gave me the number and I looked but there was nothing above it. Should I check inside the locker? No, it isn't there, she said. Well at least give me the combination so we can be sure, I suggested. She gave it to me and I started to try it. No, that isn't it, she said, and gave me another sent of numbers. Then a third set. None of them worked. I can't remember it, she told me. I just do it without thinking about it when I am opening it. Maybe the man can open it with a key, I suggested. We lost our cell phone connection and a few minute later I left the school and started driving home.
A couple of miles before I arrived home my cell phone rang. It was Cici. Is my laptop in my locker? She wanted to know, still in her frantic voice. No, it isn't in your locker, I told her. And you didn't find it anywhere else? She asked, knowing that all hope was fading. We didn't find it anywhere else, I told her. Oh, her voice sank. You didn't ask me the right question, though, I told her. She thought for a few seconds and asked me in a soft voice: Are you mad?
No, I am not mad, I told her, but you still haven't asked me the right question. You didn't ask me if your laptop "was" in your locker. Is it in my locker, she asked me again in a small voice? No, it isn't in your locker, I told her, but I couldn't let her continue feeling crushed. Your laptop is right here in the car with me. Really Papa? She started screaming with joy.
When I walked into our house with the laptop in hand a few minutes later, she was still overjoyed. She came running to me, still screaming and celebrating. I had no memory of leaving the laptop in my locker, she told me. How did you get it? The man opened your locker with a key, I told her. The laptop was there. I am so happy, she told me. I was so worried and so sad. I thought I had lost my laptop. I didn't want you to be mad. Thank you Papa. She was beaming and happy all evening, and so relieved. Her laptop means everything to her. I think she learned a lesson.
I left the office immediately because the school shuts down at 6:00. There was almost no one in the resource center, and the man who is there every day said he had not seen a laptop in a pink case. Another man, who I don't recall seeing at the school previously, offered to go to the office with me to see if someone might have turned it in. He had the key to the office and went inside and looked all around, finding nothing. I looked around on the table outside the office where some school books and other things were stacked. There was nothing there either.
I called Cici to let her know. She was mortified. Can you check above my locker, she asked? I knew where to find her locker but didn't remember the number. She gave me the number and I looked but there was nothing above it. Should I check inside the locker? No, it isn't there, she said. Well at least give me the combination so we can be sure, I suggested. She gave it to me and I started to try it. No, that isn't it, she said, and gave me another sent of numbers. Then a third set. None of them worked. I can't remember it, she told me. I just do it without thinking about it when I am opening it. Maybe the man can open it with a key, I suggested. We lost our cell phone connection and a few minute later I left the school and started driving home.
A couple of miles before I arrived home my cell phone rang. It was Cici. Is my laptop in my locker? She wanted to know, still in her frantic voice. No, it isn't in your locker, I told her. And you didn't find it anywhere else? She asked, knowing that all hope was fading. We didn't find it anywhere else, I told her. Oh, her voice sank. You didn't ask me the right question, though, I told her. She thought for a few seconds and asked me in a soft voice: Are you mad?
No, I am not mad, I told her, but you still haven't asked me the right question. You didn't ask me if your laptop "was" in your locker. Is it in my locker, she asked me again in a small voice? No, it isn't in your locker, I told her, but I couldn't let her continue feeling crushed. Your laptop is right here in the car with me. Really Papa? She started screaming with joy.
When I walked into our house with the laptop in hand a few minutes later, she was still overjoyed. She came running to me, still screaming and celebrating. I had no memory of leaving the laptop in my locker, she told me. How did you get it? The man opened your locker with a key, I told her. The laptop was there. I am so happy, she told me. I was so worried and so sad. I thought I had lost my laptop. I didn't want you to be mad. Thank you Papa. She was beaming and happy all evening, and so relieved. Her laptop means everything to her. I think she learned a lesson.
Last week or so, a coworker misplaced his Bluetooth thingie, and asked another coworker to come down to me and search the equipment for it. We just about pulled everything out of the machine looking, and it wasn't there. Shortly, he pulls up, and goes looking for it, and doesn't find it. I asked him about it yesterday, and he said it was in his pocket...
It reminded me about an old Steve Martin bit about misplacing his wallet.
So, that I should read this now - just a bit of coincidence...
Glad that the laptop turned up! It's a MacBook/MacBookPro right?
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No Smitty, I have the MacBook. Cici and Ping have matching HP laptops, and they love them.
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Ah, I would have suggested turning off auto login, as a basic way of securing the laptops incase they are lost. However, Windows security isn't my cup of tea, although I'm sure something similar can be done, as I do that with my peecee.
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I suspect the only security was the fact that everything is set up in Chinese. Maybe that would have foiled most people.
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I would say no to that actually. It might make it more exciting, but I don't think it would hinder anyone with a good understanding of Windows, or anyone who wants to tinker around for a bit.
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