The Internets

I've been spending the last couple of weeks trying to teach Mom and Dad how to use the internet.
Rafa suggested I get them started on Google Chrome, so I did.

The first few weeks were exasperating beyond belief. Not because of Mom, no, the little lady uses her noggin and remembers things we say. But Dad... holy moly... that man... he thinks we're in Jetson time.

Dad: Ivan (real estate agent) needs a bank statement. Send it to him.
Me: What?
Dad: SEND HIM THE STATEMENT!
Me: ... how... wha... D!

Dad: I want to see the earthquakes.
Me: What?
Dad: THE EARTHQUAKES!!
Me: Well... uh... ok. I'll try.
(I find the site and then I have to sit there and be accused of not believing in Jesus because I tell him he's wrong in assuming Jesus is coming because of all the marks on the map denoting the 600+ recorded tremors the site has marked. Dad... this area with all the "earthquakes" is the "Ring of Fire." The place is known for high activity... it has a ton of volcanos too... so uh... Jesus is NOT coming, plates are just shifting. Of course, this all went over his head and he nearly forced me to get exorcised for "not believing in Jesus")

Dad: I want to read El Heraldo de Durango (supposed Mexican newspaper).
Me: Umm... what's the website?
(I do this to try and test him. Seriously. The man just invents things and if he really does think it exists, I want to put it in his head that he should probably google things when he gets these urges)
Dad: EL HERALDO DE DURANGO!
I make him type it in the browser. It doesn't exist. I then, very irritated, google the stupid name.
Me: There. It's not "El Heraldo," it's "El Siglo." Mexico City uses "El Heraldo." Quit inventing things and then getting mean because I can't find them.
Dad: I knew I had heard the name somewhere. I just wanted a damn Durango newspaper.
::I point an imaginary gun to my temple and pull the trigger::

Things have sort of eased up since then. Dad can now check his e-mail, send e-mail, and check out a few sites. That's it. If he clicks on a wrong spot, that's when I usually hear him calling out for help.

Mom's a star, though. The lady is the one usually bailing out Dad whenever he clicks the wrong spot (we kids very stupidly gave Dad a mouse-less laptop which is driving him bonkers 'cause he can't get the hang of tapping his finger. He actually had an easier time with my MacBook than he does with his PC. It's baffling). She also understands how to open new tabs as opposed to opening new windows. Dad just clicks like a bewildered animal, but Mom has her act together, that little trooper.
Mom also turns on and turns off the computer.
Last night she spend SEVEN HOURS checking out Hometown's website before I FORCED her to get off-line.

This leads me to a conversation we had yesterday.
My sister was complaining about having to go to Volkswagen to have her Jetta's headlight fixed.
D: I HATE being one of those nacas driving around with a burnt-out headlight! But I don't want to dish out the 90 bucks!
Me: Umm... yeah... that sucks. I don't know how those fools sleep at night knowing they're charging a poor girl nearly a hundred dollars to change a damn light bulb.
Mom: I've been thinking... is there... couldn't you just... google how to do it? I mean... everything's on Google!

I've never been prouder.
My mom's a genius!

P.S. D googled it, found exact how-to direction, and saved herself some money. An overall feel-good day.