Lost in Suburbia: All is fair in love and computer programs

Tracy Beckerman More Content Now

Every night my husband and I have the same routine. We go upstairs, we get undressed, we get into bed, and then my husband says, “Siri, what’s the weather tomorrow?”

Yes, it’s true. There are three of us in the marital bed — me, my husband, and Siri. I’ve told my husband repeatedly not to bring her into the bedroom with us, but he insists it’s purely business.

“I just need to know what the weather is so I can figure out what to wear to work tomorrow,” he would say.

“Just look it up on the internet,” I would reply.

“But Siri does it so much faster.”

I sighed. If Siri could pick up his dry cleaning and make dinner, I’d be replaced in second. Of course, my husband insists there’s nothing to worry about. She’s just a computer voice. But I’ve seen the Terminator movies. Today Siri is giving him the weather report; tomorrow she’ll be telling Arnold Schwarzenegger I’m Sarah Connor.

“Hmm. Did you ever wonder why she has a female voice?” I asked my husband.

“Probably more pleasant sounding than a man,” he said. I narrowed my eyes at him. I was wary of this chick. I didn’t trust her one bit. I suspected sweet Siri just might have her electronic sights on my man.

“Siri, what’s the weather tomorrow?” he asked again one night.

We waited for her usual response. Sunny and 68. Cloudy and 62. She didn’t deviate much from the norm. Until now.

“Better take your umbrella!” she responded.

My husband and I looked at each other.

“That’s not a weather report,” I said. He nodded.

“Is it just me,” I continued. “Or did Siri sound, kind of … sassy?”

“Maybe they changed the software to make her a little more conversational?” He wondered.

“Give me that,” I said, grabbing his iPad. “Siri, what’s the weather tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow will be rainy and 59,” she replied.

I threw the iPad on the bed in disgust.

“She’s toying with me,” I said to my husband. I had been waiting for this. This was no software change. This lady wanted my side of the Tempurpedic mattress all to herself.

“Siri, are you being sassy?” my husband asked, speaking to the iPad again.

“I do not understand?” she replied.

“Sure, play dumb,” I muttered under my breath.

“Honey, I swear, this is just a computer glitch.”

“Who is your honey?” asked Siri.

“Don’t tell her my name!” I exclaimed.

“Tracy, you’re being irrational,” said my husband.

“You can call me Siri,” said Siri.

“That’s it!” I bellowed. I grabbed the iPad from him. “I’m deleting her app.” I frantically went into his settings found Siri and disabled her.

“Hah!” I yelled triumphantly.

“Was that really necessary?” he asked me.

“I didn’t like her tone,” I said defensively. He shook his head. His wife had finally lost her marbles.

“Ok. That’s fine,” he finally said. “I don’t need her if she bothers you …

“But can I keep Alexa?”

— For more Lost in Suburbia, follow Tracy on Facebook at facebook.com/LostinSuburbiaFanPage or on Twitter at @TracyBeckerman.