Forever and a day, my stated wish was for a little old lady to come into our home from 4:30 – 8:30 on weekdays. Her tasks would be a little light housekeeping, meal prep-and-clean-up, and turndown service before she departed. No chocolate on the pillow, please, for I’d never get to sleep. I’m that sensitive to caffeine.

A suite of duties to make my life sweet and dreamy enough… Yikes, now I’m that little old lady.

Well, not exactly petite and I refrain from the label of old. But –

I’ve replaced my request for genie of service: I now want a sleek young geek. About nineteen-years-old will do. Gotta have a drivers’ license, desire to drive, and a car.

Male or female, it doesn’t matter, though a male might be of better service for me. My husband may prefer a female, but we’re not the bi- type or trans.

I guess we’ll go for fraternal twins, though I’d elect better babes than the pic: older and able to walk and talk. Svelte, not swaddled and delivered to us with diapering needs.

You see, my husband and I can cook. We navigate our recently renovated two-butt kitchen well. Besides, several home delivery meal services exist (I have several friends who utilize and report favorable results) and local groceries, Trader Joes, and Costco have grab-and-go options galore.

What we fervently need is a technology interpreter. A fixer of networks and intel. An Apple Genius bar server who might elect to moonlight – it’s all good.

I hope the tech dude doesn’t turn us down… I don’t want to know and retain geek-speak. I just want the appliances to work.

Remember this blast from the past:

We two can’t handle this sector of future life – perhaps Toucan can.