Wordle destroyed my marriage for 20 minutes
It was, in a sense, ironic. Wordle was born from a husband’s desire to make something fun for his partner. And for the better part of a half-hour this week, I managed to use it to cause a great deal of consternation for mine. That it was done inadvertently is of no matter.
Consider this a cautionary tale, then.
On Friday morning, upon completing the day’s puzzle on the third try, I noticed something. There was a redesigned post-game screen, with a new option that apparently had been rolling out for the past week or so. I could now choose to back up my Wordle stats via my New York Times account. “That’s a pretty good idea,” I said to myself in the predawn dark, since keeping that sort of thing in a browser-based cookie isn’t all that robust. It limits you to one device, lest you lose your stats and your streak. It means if you clear your cookies — which is the sort of thing I like to do with my web browsers on a fairly regular basis — you’re starting from scratch again.
So I chose to sync things up and headed off to the gym, relatively pleased that I was this productive on a Friday morning.
After 45 minutes of weights and another 30 on an elliptical machine, I returned home. My wife wasn’t far behind after walking the dog, and she grabbed her phone to get her Wordle fix for the day.
Only, it looked like she’d already done it. There was no new puzzle to solve. Understandably confused, she asked if I’d done it and whether I had the words she saw on the screen. And as soon as that question left her perfect mouth, I felt that feeling husbands get from time to time. When you know you’ve screwed up something innocent, and there’s not a damned thing you can do to fix it.
The problem? She was logged in to my New York Times
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