Okay, so this morning Mr. O'Kitten left me the number for Mac tech support. This, after he himself (inveterate Mac-hater that he is) followed up every lead he could think of to connect me to the interweb. And finally, after plenty of coffee and foot-dragging and moaning and groaning and muttering to myself, I called.
Not that the guy on the phone wasn't helpful (his kind assistance was going to cost money -- I was only some 1,800+ days out of warranty, he politely informed me), but I wound up going back online anyway and would you believe the answer really was turning the modem off for a few minutes and then turning it back on again? Not for the reason you'd think, but in order to fool it into thinking the router with the two computers hooked into it is only one device. But really. I mean, honestly. Go figger.
Below my niece Mackenzie makes the expression I have in response to all this technological ridiculousness. Emma likes Mackenzie. A lot. Isis--not so much. Morgan simply hid. Eventually I think they will all get used to visits from the small and adorable person who pets very gently and is fascinated by the fact that Meows Poo in a box on the floor.