The Story of the New Toy

A few weeks ago I ordered a new Macbook.

When it came I was very excited.

It was my first laptop computer.

I'd been wanting one for years.

I carefully opened the box,

Like the adult I am,

Not ripping the packaging away.

Like a child at Christmas or a birthday party.

But the feeling was much the same,

The anticipation,

The hope,

The need.

Oh! the things my computer and I could do!

Oh! how useful, clean sleek and compact!

Oh! the promise of power and control!

Oh! was there anything it and I couldn't do?

So, after carefully putting away the packaging,

I might need it later,

I'm not a child,

I plugged it in, opened it up and turned it on.

The excitement was palpable within my chest.

This was a new feeling.

I carefully went through every step,

I carefully loaded every program.

It was working!

So I carefully closed the top,

And I put it on my desk,

Where it still sits today.

Waiting for the time of need.

Waiting for the desperate moment.

Waiting for the vindication

Of all the expense incurred.

But sometimes, day or night,

My fingers itch and I take it in my hands,

Cool, sleek and aluminum,

I think of what may be.

I practice typing everyday.

I practice loading and unloading the software.

I open it gloriously in my hands.

I wipe and clean every surface gently.

But sometimes, day or night,

I feel the urge to use it,

For the purpose for which it was made.

I don't think I can wait much longer.