She’s killing me, I tell ya.

My Little Cake Boss Diva.  Yes, she is.

She is an 石頭.  A rock head.  Perhaps even a boulder-sized rock.

But she didn’t get that from me.

Well, maybe just a wee bit.

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Five months ago, she asked for a new iPhone for Christmas.

“No.  You’re getting a Samsung Galaxy because I don’t understand Apple one bit…and you know, Bu-chan, that you will do something to that phone and I will have to waste a lot of time trying to figure out how to fix it.”

Well…  It was like talking to a…rock.

And yes, she got a new iPhone 5s.

I am weak.

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For several weeks, I had told her to back up her photos to flickr to get ready for her new phone.  Flickr’s free.  Besides, she is always complaining that her storage is maxed out.

…that I am going to trade in her old phone so all her selfies and pictures of her BFFs will be gone.  Poof.

So does she?  No…

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Both she and my son had concurrent science projects due for school at the same time.  Criminy.  I told forced threatened my son to do his 8th grade experiment EARLY because both their experiments – and resulting terror – fall on my shoulders.  Their mother refuses to take interest in their education.  Really.

Well, Brooke’s first experiment failed.  She wanted to see if there was an organic ant deterrent.  Trouble was, it was too cold for the ants to venture out en masse.  The ants didn’t come for the food, even when it was FREEEEEE (like the commercial).

So three weeks ago, and with her teacher’s blessing, we switched gears to see if there was any way to slow down mold from developing on her favorite berry – raspberries.

So for her experiment, I suggested pictures be taken from the beginning… so she did with her blessed iPhone.

I did, too.

“Papa!  See how you are?  You tell me to take pictures so I did.  … So don’t, okkaaay-ah?!”

“But Bu-chan, just in case… You know…”

“Nooooo-ah!  Why should I take them then?!” she mightily says in her valley girl talk.

I do as I’m told by my Little Cake Boss Diva, you know.

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So she wraps up her experiment then starts to write up her results when she was with me a couple of weeks ago.  Then as she left for her mom’s for the week that Monday, I tell her to share her report with me via Google Drive so I can help her edit it during the week.  After all, the project is due the Thursday the week she comes back to me.

She reluctantly annoyingly says, “Okaaayyy-ah!”

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Next evening (Tuesday – she’s back with her mom, now.), I text her while she’s at her dance class, asking her about the report’s progress.  She was to email me a link to her document on Google Drive.

No reply.

So I thought, well, she’s busy chit-chatting girlie stuff with her friends.

Wednesday…  I text her to see if I can take her to dinner on Thursday since she has two hours between dance classes.  Same thing.  No answer.  Now my totally flat Asian nose is getting bent out of shape.

I get smart on Thursday.  I email her, too, on top of texting.  I even sent her some new flower pictures I took.  No answer!  Old Faithful is but a tea kettle compared to the steam coming out my ears.

I actually called her… She must have been shocked her iPhone not only texts but actually functions as a phone.  “Gee, is that my ringtone?” she must have thought.

But… NO ANSWER!  Old Faithful has become an volcanic eruption.

In a futile attempt, I email her mother telling her to have Brooke answer my texts.  The ex RARELY responds to any email or text although required by the divorce agreement.  Sure enough – no response.  Now I wish I had the twin .50 Browning machine guns Mustang_USMC has stashed away and hordes of ISIS jerks in front of me so I could take out my aggressions.

Then… I find out my aunt pretty much admitted herself to a hospital far, far away.  It’s so far away that the Empire’s Death Star is at the halfway point.  Long story but she didn’t need the surgery; her quack doctor put it in her head that she needed it.

So my phone rings at 7:30 am on Saturday.  My aunt is calling from her hospital room and wants me to take her a dumb charger for her cell phone!  Crap.

Needless to say, it took my attention away from the Little Cake Boss Diva’s audacious behavior… and the science report.

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Monday comes.  The ex (who never answered my email, of course) is late dropping them off again but unbelievably, the Little Cake Boss Diva just smiles, gives me a hug then prances right into her room as if nothing’s wrong.  The nerve!  Old Faithful redux.

“Brooke!!  Why didn’t you answer my texts??!!!”

“Oh,” she begins with a not-my-fault smile, “the girls at dance on Tuesday figured out my password so I changed it.”

“What??!!  Why did they have your phone and what does changing a password have to do with your science project???  But why didn’t you answer my texts??!!  That’s the question!”

“Geez, you don’t have to get so mad!  So I changed the password…but couldn’t remember it…  So after I tried a number of times, it locked me out.  It’s a brick.  That’s all!”

“What?????!!!!!!!!!  That’s it??!!  Why didn’t you email me from your Galaxy Tab that I bought YOU when YOU broke your iPad and tell me???”  Accent on the caps.

“Oh…  Yeah…  I guess I should have…but I don’t know how to check my iPhone email on it because its an ANDROOOIDDD…  but can you fix my phone before I go to dance?  Please?”

OMFG.  I’m still cooking my Spaghetti al Limone.

The tortoise could have made it to New York in the time it took me to figure out how to unlock it…but it had to be “set up as a new phone.”

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I pick her up at 7:30 pm after another one of her EIGHT dance classes.  Of course, she’s the last one to leave.  We get into the car.

I’m refocused now since she came back four hours ago…  “Brooke, how much more do you have on your science report?” I ask.

She’s texting like there’s no tomorrow on account she been deprived for a week.  “Well, I still have to write up my procedures, results and conclusion.  Yeah, I guess I should finish it tonight because its due tomorrow…………”

Mt. St. Helens has now exploded again; the top of my head is now missing.  “Tomorrow??  I thought it was Thursday???!!!!”

“Noooo-ah!  Why did you think that?”

*hit.

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After dinner then arguing for about an hour, she finishes the report but its in bits and pieces.  She had each section set up as a new document even though I sent her a template.  Criminy.

“Brooke, you need to insert your pictures of the experiment,” I said calmly.

“Umm…  Papa…  Remember YOU wiped out my phone when YOU restored it…”  Snicker.

“Didn’t you upload them to flickr like I said?”

“Noooo-ah,” she very matter-of-factly says.

OMFG…

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Luckily, I still had that ONE picture I took on Day One.  “See Brooke.  Even though you told me not to take any pictures, aren’t you glad I did?  Huh?  What do you say to that?!”

Silence.  That’s what she said to that.

She hates being wrong.

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It’s now 12:40 am…  She’s still trying to arrange her poster board display summarizing her project:

This whole thing is due in seven hours!

She finishes at 1:45 am…

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Stay tuned…  Her Language Arts project is also due this Friday.  She is with her mom.  I sense a strong likelihood she will need to see me on Thursday to finish it.

Yes.  She will text me if she does… but I will reply because I have an Android phone. 🙂