One night I went to bed first. As I lay there in bed I heard the chimes. Well, I thought, smiling, John's going to try out my Mac! Then I heard silence. Then I heard a mild expletive, followed by more silence. What? Then I heard a somewhat less mild word, having to do with the substance babies put into their pants regularly. I started to worry. More silence. This was repeated more loudly, followed by John stomping down the hall.
"Somehow," he shouted at me, as if it were all my fault, "I've managed to erase your hard drive!" I jumped out of bed, racing down the hall. All I could think of was the many nights after work, when I'd race through dinner just to spend hours getting things set up the way I wanted. I reached out and grabbed the mouse, double-clicking on the drive icon. It opened up with everything in order. I looked at John and he stared blankly at me.
"How did you do that?" he asked. It was just too easy. He had been trying to type in commands to make it open. He just could not comprehend that anything could be so simple. The PC mind has struggled with the concept ever since. I love it.