I sat staring at my 2003 laptop for much longer than I would have liked. The image of the hourglass on the screen should have been a grandfather clock as far as I was concerned.
As a family we had talked about getting a new laptop for quite a while. We were particularly interested in getting Philip his own laptop, given high school was rapidly approaching. Philip was likewise eager to have a laptop he could call his own. He had his heart set on getting a high-end gaming laptop and was demonstrating his eagerness by saving as much money as possible. Philip had already managed to save over five hundred dollars toward his cause. And we had begun speaking with him about us splitting the cost with him so he could get the laptop he wanted sooner rather than later. Our target had been Philip’s birthday in late February, but my recent loss of employment initially appeared to have put off that investment.
Then the frozen screen in front of me inspired another idea. I needed a faster laptop, but only until I found new employment. Philip wanted a fast laptop and had saved aggressively for almost a year. And lastly, Amelia and I wanted to help him get his laptop, even despite the financial setback of me losing my job. I discussed the idea with Amelia before presenting it to Philip. He loved every aspect of the idea, including taking part in helping his dad find new employment. He could get the laptop he wanted and he could get it earlier than would otherwise be possible. In exchange, he would let me, his dad, use it until I completed my job search.
Philip was sold instantly. But Amelia and I wanted to be cautious. Philip’s dream laptop priced in at almost a mortgage payment. So there was a two week window between the time we first presented the idea to Philip and the evening we negotiated the terms to share the cost and made the actual purchase.
It was during that window that Philip’s behavior reminded me of myself at that time in life. I would see him pacing outside his room and downstairs in the family room. And then he would ask me if he could show me the computer he wanted or talk to me about certain features he really wanted, even though such features cost extra. My favorite pet feature of Philip’s was the illuminated keyboard. He would frequently ask when we would be making our final decision. And he would make various proposals regarding how he would share a greater cost burden so he could get the exact laptop he wanted as soon as possible. I could tell in his mind he was soaring, smiling at a future he envisioned with the illuminated keyboard laptop of his choice. It was difficult for him to empathize with his parents’ caution. And I remember well my mother cautiously weighing any major purchase on my behalf.
This past Thursday I had a seemingly achievable list of objectives for my job search that day. As I attempted to execute each action item without wasting time, I was continually frustrated by the amount of time I spent staring at the hourglass on the screen waiting. And so sometime after lunch, I had made my decision. I was going to get the laptop for Philip. When I got home, I sequestered Amelia to make my case to secure her final agreement. Then we told Philip. He was quite happy as one could imagine. But there was one effect that vanished. The soaring stopped. No more pacing and no more wanting to tell me about an idea he had.
Watching my son soaring will need to wait until the next exciting prospect emerges. Meanwhile, I’m looking forward to a laptop with response times one would measure with a stopwatch, rather than a grandfather clock.
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