I spilled water on it.
Not on it, really. Behind it. On the coffee table. As soon as it happened I swiped the laptop and put it on the couch, hoping it would dry its behind and all would be well. It was only after I returned to it, having fortified myself with tea, that I realized it wouldn't start.
It wouldn't Start? It Wouldn't START??
The imminent panic attack was prevented by the presence of husband's laptop, and the internet came to the rescue. Specifically this awesome website. Armed with a set of tiny screwdrivers imported from the mother country, a tissue paper, and a popsicle stick, I dismantled the computer. Most of it, anyway.
Then A came home and had a fit. You can't do this without the right instruments! So we replaced the popsicle stick with a 5-buck spudger, the tissue with a container of pressurized air, and my eyes with his, behind surgical magnifying loops. Much labeling of screws and making of notes later, the logic board was taken apart. And put together again.
The moment of truth arrived, very similar to the moment we first laid eyes on each other. Will it happen? What if it doesn't?
It did. The little blue screen came on, followed by that sound of a Mac stirring to life. Oh, that sweet sound.
I have a feeling more than my laptop was rescued that day.