There have been many milestones in the history of Planet Earth, like when the dinosaurs went extinct, and ice ages came and went, and the ancestors of humans first stood on two feet.
Then there was that afternoon in Cleveland, Ohio.
The crucial moment came in a cluttered garage where a big man with a shaggy beard invented strange gadgets under the gaze of a row of watchers on a high windowsill.
And that afternoon, the watchers were in despair.
Their inventor had finally started to make something they could use – something that could elevate them from a hole-dwelling, crumb-hunting species to one that could rule the world.
Then he stopped.
“The computer!” they yelled at him. “Finish our computer!”
But they yelled in sign language, and the inventor didn’t see them, and wouldn’t have understood if he had seen them, so yelling didn’t help.
They could only watch as the human turned the computer over in his massive hands.
“Way too small for my fat fingers,” he mumbled. “Oh well, I can use the parts for other things.”
The watchers held their breath as the inventor reached for the tiny screwdriver that would pick the world’s smallest computer apart.
And they almost turned blue when he stopped with the screwdriver in mid air.
“Wait a minute,” he muttered. “I’ll keep it for the wild child!” And he gave a rumbling laugh that made his beard shake. “I’ll keep it for Megan. She can have some fun with it.”