Lauren lost her electronics (iPod & Kindle Fire) earlier this week after her “Ferrari brain” and mid-year semester report from school got her into trouble.

She can have them back when she brings her grades up…until then, they’re mine.

This doesn’t sit well with her, of course, and she regularly comes up with reasons she “needs” her electronics.

Last night, she told me that she could not possibly do her weekly vocabulary cards without her iPod and Siri, Apple’s voice-controlled personal assistant.

(For those not familiar with Siri, it works like this: You open the Siri application, ask Siri a question — for instance, the definition of word — and Siri answers it using information found on the Internet.)

“Nice try,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

I ran upstairs and dug through my office bookshelves to find what I was looking for.

“Lauren, Meet Mr. Webster, Siri’s great-grandfather,” I said, plunking down a slightly-dusty $2 paperback copy of Webster’s Student Dictionary.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” she asked incredulously, curling her lip at the dusty relic (an actual paper book…gasp) that I’d laid before her.

“Look your words up old-school-style,” I said with a smug grin.

She got the last laugh though. Mr. Webster let me down when we couldn’t find hypotonic, isotonic or hypertonic among his definitions.

With a sigh and a shake of my head, I relented and handed over my cell phone so she could look them up 2015 style.

websters