Easy Energy

“Paul,” Eliza said, as her husband came in from the garage, “your package arrived. From Meh.”

“Oh, great!” Paul grabbed a box opener and opened the seal on his package. “Baby, this thing’s going to be great. It’s basically an enormous power bank. You know how crazy the weather is in the summer these days? With one of these, we’ll be set for the inevitable power outage. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’ll be rough, but we’ll at least be able to run a fan, use a few appliances, et cetera.”

“I know, Paul.” Eliza, sitting at the kitchen table, crossed her arms. “I saw a tab with the tracking left open on your computer.”

Paul froze, holding the Kenwood Power Station he’d just lifted out of the box. “You looked at my computer?”

“I needed to pay the water bill,” Eliza said. “My computer was dead, and you know how it is to navigate the municipal waterworks site on a phone. So I used yours rather than wait for mine to charge.”

“Ah,” Paul said, putting down the Power Station.

There were other tabs open, Paul. We need to talk," Eliza said, “about your New Year’s Resolution.”

Paul smiled with theatrical confusion. “What? I want to spend more time outside. What’s wrong with that?”

Eliza turned to the table, where Paul’s laptop lay closed. She opened it now and began reading off the tabs. “‘Best gaming rain ponchos.’ ‘Weatherproof gaming chair.’ You asked ChatGPT if the Nintendo Switch 2 is wind-resistant.”

Paul remained silent, his smile slowly fading.

“Paul,” Eliza said, “did you buy this Kenwood Power Station so you could essentially build an outdoor living room, thus allowing you to fulfill your wholesome-sounding resolution without giving up any of your beloved gaming time?”

Paul held up his hands. “Fine, you caught me. But hey, before you give me a bunch of grief, remember that wasn’t my only resolution. For example, I’m also resolving to eat less fat.”

“I heard the emphasis you put on ‘eat’ there, which would explain the tab for–” Eliza squinted at the laptop screen. “–‘bacon fat tea.’ Were you planning to just drink your fat?”

Paul solemnly nodded. For 2027, he would set a different resolution: close all his tabs and clear his history.