Kindle: How Not to Do It

I've finally succumbed to Kindle - well, not me personally, but  I bought one for Mrs N for Christmas, thinking it would serve her very much better than me. I also thought it would be a doddle to set it up and get it working - I mean, the packaging has such a pleasingly low-tech, book-like feel to it, and the Kindle itself looks like the simplest conceivable piece of kit, the kind of thing the most technophobic bookworm could handle. Surely, I thought, even I will be able to get to grips with this one...
 You're ahead of me here, no doubt, and asking yourself Will he never learn? The first challenge was to connect to the home WiFi network, which of course required a password, which of course I didn't know and which of course should have been on the router, but nothing I found thereon functioned as a password. At this point, I gave up for the first time. Yesterday, I renewed my assault on the impregnable Kindle. I had soon made a major breakthrough, having noticed that there was a way to connect to WiFi without a password (as, no doubt, any fule kno). It worked. With a hearty cheer, I announced that we were connected and ready to go. Next step, sign in to Mrs N's Amazon account. The work of a moment. Done. Here we go at last. Except that we don't - or rather we do go, but straight back to square one, as if  none of the above had happened. At this point, with something rather stronger than a muttered oath, I gave up for the second and last time.
 The Kindle awaits the next visit from my son, who will get it up and running in a matter of minutes. It's a generation thing.