A Weekend at Grandma's

So, my cousin and I rolled up to Grandma's crib, skibidi vibes all around, ready to dive into the Wi-Fi life. We asked for the password, and Grandma went full goon mode, digging through her drawer like a sigma searching for treasure. After what felt like an eternity, she handed us a note that read, 'Martha, stop using that paper towel as a plate!' Classic Grandma. Then she found the real deal, only for it to be '12345678.' We were lowkey shook when it did not work. Finally, she dropped the new password: '123456789!' Thanks for the dank security, Grandma!