I recently forgot that I have a neck.

It happened as I backed out of a grocery store parking space. I noticed my car's rearview camera lens was so dirty that I could no longer see through it.

I started to panic, worried I was going to hit someone.

But I was already halfway out of the spot! It was hopeless! What could I do?

"Wait," I suddenly realized. "I can just ... turn my head and look behind me."

It turns out that, all along, my head has been equipped with its very own rearview camera.

But that's how technology works. We think it makes our lives easier, but it actually makes them harder, only in a different way.

Case in point: car seats.

When I was a kid, car seats were for babies, and babies only.

Once you were old enough to hold your head up, you had a regular seat, with a lap belt — unless it was a long car ride, in which case you curled up in a ball on the floor, or you were in a pickup, in which case you and seven other kids sat in the truck bed, rattling around like candy in a pinata.

There have been innumerable safety improvements since those days, and now parents are advised to keep their kids in car seats until they turn 25 years old or move out of the house, whichever comes first.

Car seats keep kids safer — if you can figure out how to install them.

I had to remove both of our car seats recently, to put them into a rental car, and believe me when I say that whatever technological improvements have been made to car seat safety have not extended to their installation.

I began the series of 400 steps required to unhook the seats — pressing buttons, unclipping straps and moving levers. Eventually, though, I could go no further. One strap was stuck, closed tighter than Rupert Murdoch's fist around a $20 bill. No matter how hard I pulled, it wouldn't loosen.

I grunted and swore as the car rental employee stood to the side, watching me as if I were a zoo animal.

"I ... just ... can't ... get ... it ... unhooked," I said, yanking furiously on the strap and sweating like an Arizona Diamondbacks mascot in July.

"I'd help but I don't have any kids," he mumbled, and honestly, I didn't blame him. I do have kids and I still can't figure it out.

But that's technology: Occasionally helpful, but just as often, annoying.

I mean, ask a kid.

Children have the reputation for aptitude when it comes to technology, but watch a 5-year-old try to use a desktop computer and see exactly how skilled they really are.

My son has many times gotten frustrated trying to pull up a video to watch on our computer.

He'll tap the screen, assuring me it's broken.

Because technology has tricked him, and now he thinks every screen is a touch screen.

But technology gets the best of us all. I'm now a person who requires my phone to remember every phone number — from my dad's to the pizza place we order from once a week.

We used to store that information in our heads, but that was before our memories withered in technology's sun.

Now, technology isn't all bad. You can fast-forward through commercials, use an app to find lost keys and conduct a work meeting without ever having to put on pants.

But, as with all technology, there are tradeoffs.

We just have to remember that no matter how good technology gets, we — our brains and our bodies — are the most high-tech gadgets we own.

I mean, if nothing else, we always have a neck to fall back on.

To learn more about Georgia Garvey, visit GeorgiaGarvey.com.

Photo credit: 5033181 at Pixabay