I had to put my mother in Facebook Timeout. It’s what you do when you get a lecture about being online entirely too much by a family member.
This is not the first time we have had this conversation. She was at a family function about 6 weeks ago and my cousins, who are around my age laughed and said I was on it all the time. Now, you know, if you are logged in and not ON Facebook, it shows you as on-line. In my other life I am a real estate agent as well as a trainer for a large wonderful real estate company. Social Networking for agents is what I teach. Over and over again. I also show them how to create business pages and create Twitter accounts. So, I am online like, ALL DAY, mom…..
She is 75 and recently got an iPad. She has become dangerous with Facebook, texting, suggesting apps, and reading CNN all day long. She also creeps on my news feed. She doesn’t miss a thing. Oh, and she is also a real estate agent. Just sold a 700K house. That is more production than me this year, but I digress.
Yesterday afternoon, I called to check in and she started asking me questions about who is sick on my timeline, who just had a baby, and what is this mermaid thing. Then she added–‘You really are on Facebook a lot.’ For the umpteenth time.
Mom, I am 52, have a teenager, been married 23 years to the same man, try to keep my house clean, have a great job, have lots of friends, am not in rehab, and haven’t asked you all for money since 1986.
So, I came home and blocked her. Well, actually I accidentally unfriended her. Last nite. It took her about 8 hours to call me this morning and whine-YOU UN-FRIENDED MEEEEEEEE!!!
I kinda like the term, Facebook Timeout. I had 24 hours of freedom-I should have posted nude photos of myself and stuff but Facebook would have called DFACS and taken my teen away.
Now, the mermaid-well, I guess I am busted. Mom, if you show up here, just be ready to accept that I may use some words like: douchebag, penis, vagina, WTF, FBomb, and my favorite word of all time–SHIT! I will try to enhance my vocabulary and get out my Roget’s Thesaurus to try to find a comparable word but I don’t think that is gonna happen. I may also joke about my religion, my bodily functions, and male strippers. But this is all in fun.
After all, you were the one who told me about the 50 yard douche (water skiing), read 2 of the Grey books, and also told me before I got married that the secret to a happy marriage is this: If he isn’t horny, make him a sandwich!
Don’t forget about nature vs. nuture-my sense of humor is from you and dad (the man who would not pay for the band for my wedding unless they played “Shout“). So now I gotta figure how to bail big momma out of Facebook jail.
I love you, mom. And enjoy…..