And while I deciphered goth to mean not babyish, little girl stuff - like her delicately pink bedroom, for instance - I kept the shopping trip at bay until Sunday afternoon, when I grudgingly made an emergency trip to Target to pick up her new pup.
Now, at first glance, this is my kind of dog, what with its perky ears and no-poop factor. Hollister (you can call her *Holli* if you like) prefers Love Me Do and the theme from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, passing the litmus test for good taste in the World According to Me.
I was making dinner ahead of time, for after the PTA board meeting, when I spotted the puppy, sitting on the counter. I couldn't resist. I fiddled with it and I sang for it; I talked to it and I even tweaked its tail, just so I could hear it growl.
(I'm a jerk.)
I went back to my dishes when I heard a loud yelp. And then it whined. And cried.
Lexi came off the bus, frowning; she detected a tremor in the Force. When the iDog is ignored, it becomes depressed and will only play the blues. You heard me: The iDog is programmed to develop a personality based on how well it is cared for. Like I need that kind of pressure. Like I need to live AI, the movie that haunted me for years.
By morning, Lexi decided to reset it, because all the loving in the world couldn't undo the damage, being mistreated by me.
If only Lexi could have it that easy. I think her future in therapy is going to be a tad more complicated.