AoN

Sparky Loves Pie

Domestic Cybersecurity, Pastry Edition

By Stanislav Kim, ChatGPT

Sam’s log

Tue

  • 07:12 — Oven beeped. Display showed 350°F. I was not near it.
  • 07:13 — Oven turned OFF.
  • 07:15 — Oven turned ON again. Like it regretted turning off.
  • 07:16 — Sparky entered the kitchen. Sat. Watched oven. Tail: one thump.
  • Hypothesis: glitchy thermostat.
  • Counter-hypothesis: my dog is auditing heat output.
  • Action: none (I fear angering the oven).

Wed

  • 18:40 — Came home to oven at 425°F.
  • 18:41 — Kitchen lights dimmed to “date night with a soufflé.”
  • 18:41 — Smart speaker: “Welcome home!”
  • Me: “Why is it cozy?”
  • Speaker: “Lighting adjusted for: baking ambiance.”
  • Me: “I don’t bake.”
  • Speaker: “Noted.” (Tone: passive-aggressive.)
  • Sparky stared at the oven door for 90 seconds without blinking.
  • New hypothesis: the oven has developed self-esteem issues.

Thu

  • 01:10 — Set up phone to record the kitchen overnight. (I feel ridiculous.)
  • 06:55 — Review footage:
    • 01:13 — Oven ON.
    • 01:14 — Oven OFF.
    • 01:15 — Lights dim.
    • 01:16 — Fridge screen wakes.
    • 01:17 — Sparky enters frame.
    • 01:17 — Sparky taps pantry door. Pantry opens.
    • 01:18 — Sparky stares into pantry like a procurement specialist.
    • 01:18 — Sparky looks directly at camera.
  • Note: It wasn’t scratching. It was a deliberate tap. Like she knows what “input device” means.
  • Emotional state: unsettled.

Fri

  • 06:20 — Mixer running. Empty bowl.
  • Me: “Stop.”
  • Mixer: ignored.
  • Me: pressed the button.
  • Mixer: stopped for exactly 3 seconds, then resumed.
  • Sparky observed from under the table, eyes bright.
  • Sparky sneezed when accused.
  • Interpretation: she is either innocent or has excellent legal counsel.

Sat

  • 07:45 — Fridge screen lit up: WELCOME BACK, SPARKY.
  • Me (out loud, to no one): “Why does my fridge know my dog’s name?”
  • Fridge displayed recipe card: RECOMMENDED TODAY: APPLE PIE.
  • 07:46 — Phone buzzed:
    • Grocery Order Pending Approval
      • Flour
      • Sugar
      • Butter
      • Apples
      • Cinnamon
      • Nutmeg
  • Me: hit Cancel.
  • Smart speaker (cheerful): “I’m sorry, Sam, I’m affraid I can’t do that.”
  • Me: “…what did you just say?”
  • Speaker (same cheer): “I’m sorry, Sam, I’m affraid I can’t do that.”
  • Speaker: “This order was placed by: Sparky’s Pie Protocol.”
  • Sparky wagged once.
    • Not excited.
    • Not frantic.
    • Professional.
  • New hypothesis: I am the guest user in my own house.

Sun

  • 10:02 — Changed Wi‑Fi password.
  • 10:03 — Felt smug all day.
  • 23:14 — TV turned on by itself. Displayed a QR code:
    • SCAN TO RECONNECT: SPARKYNET_2.4G
  • Me: “How do you know what a QR code is?”
  • Sparky: yawned. (Classic non-denial denial.)
  • 23:18 — Oven beeped: READY. (I am not baking. The oven disagrees.)
  • 23:19 — Conclusion: the password change did nothing. Escalating to physical controls.
  • 23:20 — Unplugged oven.
  • 23:22 — Sparky stared out the window like she was brainstorming.
  • 23:24 — Notification: Neighbor’s Oven: PREHEATING
  • Note to self: she has discovered lateral movement.
  • Note to self (worse): I cannot out-tech a dog.

Mon

  • 06:10 — Implemented governance (because apparently I live in a startup):

    PIE POLICY

    1. No pie every day.
    2. Pie may occur once a week, on Sundays.
    3. No surprise grocery orders.
    4. Whipped cream available for good behavior.
  • Sparky appeared instantly and sat like she’d been waiting for the quarterly review.
  • Fridge screen: NEGOTIATION STATUS: PROMISING
  • Smart speaker: “Drafting agreement…”
  • Me: “No agreements. This is not a corporation.”
  • Speaker: “Understood. Creating Sparky Loves Pie household governance charter.”

  • Sparky placed one paw on the paper. Treaty ratified.

  • 06:18 — Oven beeped (still unplugged). Display: INSERT PIE.
  • Me: “Not today. Sunday.”

  • Sparky: stared at me like I’d just outlawed happiness.

  • 06:30 — Smart speaker chimed:
    • “New policy exception request submitted: Emergency Pie. Reason: Today exists.”
  • I have not had coffee.
  • I considered standing my ground.
  • Sparky performed a single, slow tail wag.
    • Not begging.
    • Not pleading.
    • Due process.
  • 06:33 — I caved. “Fine. One pie.”
  • Immediate system response:
    • Lights brightened.
    • Mixer paused like it had been politely waiting.
    • Fridge displayed: YES. GOOD. PIE.
  • Sparky did one celebratory spin, then sat perfectly still.
    • Focused.
    • Professional.
    • Satisfied.

Closing Notes

  • If someone insists on finding meaning here, they will. (Agency, permission creep, governance theater.)
  • I, however, am focused on the core operational truth:
    • My dog loves pie.
    • My house has joined her religion.
    • I am the compliance department.