The Modern World

Don’t you just hate being intimidated by a two-year-old?

That’s not new to me — I’ve always suspected infants knew things I didn’t. But when they had to tell me how to change their diapers, I knew I was in for a lifetime of feeling inferior to these miniature people.

Nowadays, babies have made great strides in their ability to “one up” me. I was at a store recently and watched a sixteenmonth- old quietly manipulate her mother’s cell phone. As I stood there gawking at her ability to make the phone do things I didn’t know were possible, her mother casually told me that her four-year-old had downloaded four movies onto the phone while she slept.

If you think for one minute I could download a movie on anything — much less my phone — you’d be living in an altered state. These days, I have to call someone to change a light bulb in my ceiling. Doing anything more than answering my phone when it rings is a major technological achievement.

I never thought of myself as limited, slow, or inept. But watching these little ones swipe and tap with the confidence of a NASA engineer is enough to make me feel permanently behind the curve. And they do it all without once throwing the device across the room in frustration. I admire their dexterity — and their ability not to cuss at technology.

A friend recently told me she has a private email account “in the cloud.” I asked what the heck a cloud was and whether I should have one. She assured me I already do — I just don’t know it.

Now please. What is that all about? And people wonder why I don’t use Facebook or Twitter. I haven’t the foggiest idea how to use them. And someone tell me — what exactly is a hashtag? Is it one word or two?

The truth is, I’m living in a constant state of intimidation. And it’s not just toddlers fueling these feelings — it’s the entire modern world rushing by while I’m still standing on the curb, trying to figure out how to join the parade.

Little 

Voice