When the kids were young, they depended on me for everything. Food, clothing, shelter, changing the channel on the TV…you know—all the important stuff. I even bathed them when they were dirty! I was a good mom.

Through the years, I taught them how to sing, read, do all kinds of crafty things on rainy days. The crafty lessons were mainly to help me keep my sanity while they were stuck indoors.

They would fall down. Get scrapes and bruises. Push each other down. Get more scrapes and bruises. The crying and screaming sometimes became as irritating as nails skimming a blackboard. But, they were mine and I loved them, so I’d hug them, kiss them, patch them up, and tell them not to hit, bite, or kick the perpetrator in retaliation. Some times that worked.

During those early days, home desk-top computers came into fashion and affordability. Naturally, only the adults were allowed to touch the keyboard. After all, kids didn’t understand “if then/goto” and all the very complicated jargon of that early behemoth that required its own special room in the house. God forbid anything spilled within ten feet of that fifty-ton monster.

As the mom, I was permitted to play “games” on the computer. At the time, my game of choice (my only choice) was a text-based game called, “Zork.”

The only clear memory I have of suffering through that adventure game was the phrase, “The Unicorn is a mythical beast!”

That phrase glared at me in annoying white letters on that beast of a black screen more times than I could count. I recall it was in response to my trying to remove the key hanging around the Unicorn’s neck so I could open the next door…or some such thing.

In my frustration, the word choices that exploded from my brain to my mouth could only be spoken out loud after the little darlings were fast asleep!

Special Note: For those today who believe Facebook is a time-suck machine—you obviously never played “Zork!”

After hours and hours of hunching over the keyboard, tapping various instructions to the gremlins everyone knew lived inside the monster (and who obviously took great pleasure in making me crazy), I would trudge up the stairs to bed, bleary-eyed and grumbling to myself about how I would kill that Unicorn some day!

The next morning, my adorable, loving children would stare at me, frightened,  as they sat down to eat their breakfast of scrambled eggs and jelly beans.

Ah, technology!



5 thoughts on “WHY I HATE UNICORNS!”

  1. Ah, now I understand. 🙂

    In 1968, when my father retired from the Army, he learned how to punch computer programming cards. He would bring them home. Those rectangular, manila cards with rectangular holes were beautiful.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I remember learning how to punch computer cards in high school and actually being able to read the punch-outs! And then, of course, we’d play with the stacks and stacks of cards!


  2. I started college as a math major to get into computers, where, as my dad insisted, you could start a career at $1,500 a month (a lot of money back then) and they couldn’t stop me because I was a woman. So I took a Computer Science class as a freshman, and spent countless hours writing a “simple” program, only to spend countless more hours punching the cards. If you made a mistake, the card was trash. If you didn’t realize you’d made a mistake, your program was garbage — and as you might remember, GIGO — and it was back to the lab to figure out where you’d gone wrong. Heaven forbid you should drop your box of cards before you got to the computer!

    Second semester of my sophomore year, I changed my major to Dramatic Arts.

    Liked by 1 person

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