You Too, Annie

My Mom calls the GPS system in the car "Annie." I know it drives my Dad crazy. A "woman" who gives directions is probably hard enough for him to swallow, but then to have my Mom give this mystery woman a name just makes things worse. He puts up with it though.  He is just happy that GPS "Annie" gets them and their emerald blue Ford Focus where they need to go, especially when they are out of town. My Dad is pretty good with technology, maybe about a C+ (and I don't mean the programming language for those of you who are A+), but he still uses his keys to tap the screen of the GPS to input data. I am not sure if it is because he doesn't know that he can simply use his finger on the touchscreen or if he uses his keys because, frankly, he uses his keys for everything. He cuts open Frito-Lay chip bags with his keys.He slices open CDs. Saws through plastic zip ties on new purchases. He opens just about everything with his keys because, like most men, they are always jingle-jangling in his front pocket. So he just pulls them out and taps them on the touchscreen until the satellites align and Annie gives her first command.
"Continue on North Harbor Drive for 3.3 miles."
"In 100 feet, turn right on Nibitz Blvd."
"You have arrived at your destination."
My Dad pulls into the parking lot and coasts into the first open spot.
"Thank you Annie!" My Mom squeals.
I can almost hear my Dad mumble in his head,"Annie's not real, honey; Annie's not real. You don't have to thank her."
But he keeps his mouth shut.
Because he is kind.
And it makes my Mom happy.
Oh, and thanks to "Annie" they get where they are going.
And darn it, if that isn't what love is? -- Keeping your mouth shut when your partner is happy over something you think is silly.
And keeping your eye on the big picture.
If my partner wants to name the GPS device after a curly red head who had a hard knock life - fine. She's smiling and we're where we're supposed to be.
I'm glad I'm here.
I'm glad you're here.
I'm glad we're together.
Both of us, ur...ALL of us.
You too, Annie.

-Hope A. Horner, 2013
www.hopehorner.com
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