Password: Recovered!

Is there a more valuable life skill than figuring out how to recover a lost password? 

I submit that there is not.

If there’s one type of experience that has shaped me into the nearly middle-aged woman I am today, it’s receiving that little bit of red script on a sign-in page that says “email or password incorrect. Please try again.”

These are the moments that turn girls into women. Boys into men. 

It’s the moment of truth. When decision-making and problem-solving skills are suddenly tested for real.

You have to decide: Do I call it quits and ask them to text me a numerical code that I can use temporarily, for exactly 12 seconds before it self-destructs? Or do I rotate through a series of potential passwords that I know I’ve used on other apps and websites? Sometimes I throw in a $ or &. Other times, I capitalize certain words in my stock password selection. Or change the number by a digit or two.

But I don’t want to reveal too many state secrets here. My password procedure is my password procedure. Mind your business. As someone who maintains fairly regular posts on my personal blog, I clearly value privacy.

Anyway. So when this life-altering event happened to Nate a few weeks ago, Tighe and I swelled with pride.

Our little guy was about to become a man. 

He couldn’t log into his school email and check his assignments. Or whatever he uses his school email for, I’m actually not really clear on that piece. 

So first, he went to Tighe.

“The password is two words,” he said, “and the first word is ‘secret.’”

“Okay,” Tighe said, trying to be helpful. “So… secret…? Secret what?”

“I don’t know!” Nate was already exasperated and, realizing that he might not be able to complete his English assignment, was starting to panic.

Together, this powerful father-son duo sitting at the kids’ computer in the basement, brainstormed dozens of possible password iterations. 

Secret Lou.

Secret thing.

Secret password.

Secret secret.

Secret gnome.

It took all evening. And none of the password attempts worked. Obviously. Why would he keep trying after recalling the correct one?

By bedtime, Nate surrendered to the fact that he’d probably have to talk to his teacher in the morning, confess that he couldn’t recall his password, and thus not hand in the assignment on time. 

But Nate, increasingly self-aware, knows that his brain is a little fresher in the morning, so he set his alarm for about 15 minutes earlier so could make one last attempt.

Still, no luck. And he was starting to envision his upcoming conversation with his English teacher. She’s very nice and he likes her a lot, but she’s demanding. 

But he had one last trick up his sleeve: Sam.

Sam, ever oblivious to the goings-on around him, had hopped down the steps and plopped down on the sofa ready to attack the small sliver of toast he eats every morning, not a care in the world. 

Nate was still brainstorming out loud, throwing out all kinds of possibilities for that evasive second word. He had finished his breakfast, but in one last act of desperation, said, “Sam, do you know what my password is? It’s ‘secret something.’”

“Secret penis!”

“Sam! That’s it! You’re a genius!”

It was right. Nate logged in immediately, fetched the assignment, and made the necessary edits with time to spare. How did Sam guess that, totally out of the blue??

Great minds think alike, I guess. 

Or perhaps Nate and Sam are so co-dependent that they form one brain between the two of them.

It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve collaborated on a homework assignment, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. 

That morning, they both became men, problem-solving a password firewall for the first time ever.

Together they’ll master grade school, skate through high school, survive college, and conquer the world. One forgotten password at a time.

PS For safety and security reasons, Nate has since changed his password. So don’t try any funny business, hackers.