Our kids thought they were doing us a favor when they swapped every light bulb in our house for smart bulbs. And at first, it was a favor. All I had to do was say, “Ok Google,” and the whole house would light up like Christmas, except, of course, for the office, because that’s Alexa’s territory.

It was perfect until it wasn’t.

This weekend, we needed to replace a few bulbs. Simple enough, right? Wrong. We went to Home Depot only to discover that the Philips Hue bulbs we initially had were discontinued. So we grabbed a different brand and figured, “How hard can it be?” Holy JC in heaven! What used to be a task as simple as flipping a switch is now a full-on escape room challenge. It has been a comedy of errors on repeat.

We installed the new app, and I deleted the old Philips Hue app, completely forgetting we still had Philips bulbs in the office and bedroom. So of course, I had to reload it, only for Google to tell me that “something went wrong.” No shit, Google! If everything were right, I wouldn’t be hunched over the instructions using my phone flashlight like a coal miner lost in the dark.

On the bright side, I discovered my phone flashlight has a strobe setting. Which, for the record, did not result in me accidentally turning the house into Studio 54. As I masterfully hit every note to Dancing Queen, the dog bolted under the couch, crying and shaking.  I nearly sprained an ankle high-kicking my way through the Abba audition. The neighbors saw the flashing lights, assumed we were hosting a rave, and actually knocked on the door to see if they should bring snacks.

Meanwhile, my husband threw his hands up and yelled, “Terrific performance, but maybe you could help me figure this shit out so we can  fix the damn lights!” So yes, we’re technologically handicapped, but if the lights never work again, who cares? Clearly, I was destined for strobe lights and sequins.

We finally managed to get every room glowing again, except for the bedroom and office. Alexa, queen of the office lights, has decided to rebel. She keeps announcing, “The device is not available,” over and over again, like a broken record. Don’t get me started on the Google in the bedroom. The damn thing is smart enough to know when we’re pulling into the driveway, but it can’t turn on one lousy light?

Apparently, we now need an IT department just to find the bathroom. Remind me again why we thought trading a light switch for a software update was a good idea? Even the dog is giving us judgmental looks, as if we’re unqualified to run the house.

Then it hit me, we’ve officially become those parents. The ones who call their kids for tech support every time life requires a password, a remote, or resetting the clock on the microwave after a power outage. My parents once leaned on me with, “Anna, why doesn’t the remote work?” or “Anna, why does my email want a password?” Now? That’s us. Only this time, we’re determined to figure out the lights before Friday, when the kids come home.

And if my children are reading this: relax. We’re not sitting in total darkness. We’re enjoying “mood lighting” and consider this our bold experiment in frontier living.

Meanwhile, as I am writing this, my husband is behind me, swearing at Google. The best part? Every time he gives up mid-sentence and mutters “forget about it,” Google instantly starts blasting Don’t You Forget About Me on Spotify. Apparently, even the robots are messing with us.

So yes, while we are technologically handicapped, we at least have a sense of humor and can laugh at our situation – albeit we are laughing in the dark. Thank goodness the indoor nanny cam isn’t on, because this show would definitely raise questions about the state of our mental health.