"No, that's an i-pod," Ashley turns the borrowed device over in her hand. We are standing on the edge of the athletic field. It's about 90 degrees at 7:30 in the evening. Our week long VBS is on its second day.
"But it has an apple on it," I respond with a crooked grin.
"They both do," her voice is gentle as she corrects me.
"Ugh." Inwardly, I groan. Outwardly, I laugh. "I can't tell the difference."
Ashley hands the device back to me and launches into a technological description of all an i-pod can and can't do, and proceeds to describe various options of which I've already forgotten.
I am a bit dazed, and definitely confused, "So, I can't make a phone call?"
Her head bobs as she laughs. I think she's laughing at me, because I am not laughing now, and she can't be laughing with me. She shakes her head, "Were you listening?"
I stare, open mouthed, trying to conjure up an intelligent reply to this technological twelve year old wizard.
She laughs again, and runs to join the group of fifth and sixth graders playing water dodge ball.
Such is the plight of my technological learning, because I'm still learning.