Gave a computer. They have a 6-year-old son, a very serious young man, I think - let him learn. After some time I come to visit, I am sitting on the hospital with a broken left arm. The compiler does not function. It was good to start. I find that the screw is literally stuck, incorrectly installed and removed games. I grind out these Augie stalls, removing everything, injecting order on the C disk.
All is flying. I’ll call the coach and find out what games to play.
She asks to light up the car so that the child doesn’t ride in it while Mom and Dad are at work. I do.
Arrives from the Gulag Chado. The dialogue:
Did you do the computer?
I have done.
Played the games?
I did what your mother said.
I will play now. (I pressed the turn on button. The password window appears.)
C is what?
I. Your mom asked and I put a password on the car. Now the computer will only start after your mother enters a password so that you don’t play when they’re not at home.
Q. Do you know the password?
I. Yes Yes
Q tell me!
I do not.
I’m breaking your second hand!