My mother joined facebook. Fine. Whatever. I refuse to take or send photos of my kids, I refuse to return to my hometown, and I rarely call (see prior post about my phone-o-phobia). My children and I all regularly FB, so she logically concluded that to join us is to be near us, though be it only virtual. Approximately 85% of interpersonal relationships are conducted in an electronic manner nowadays anyway, so she's not in the minority here (please don't post that my fact is inaccurate or undocumented; I made it up based on my own estimation of how much actual face-to-face contact I have on a regular basis in my life and since this is my blog, ergo the facts are realistic.)
So mom's on facebook. Cool. When she last visited, she arrived armed with brand spankin' new netbook, wi-fi, and even a wireless mouse (which is sooo freakin' cool 'cuz it's tiny and seriously...who doesn't love trial sized stuff???). She spent her week here learning the FB ropes, which is quite an accomplishment for the woman who spent the last decade of the internet confined to interoffice email and the occasional - and cringeworthy - happy hugging angel emails. What's even better (for my dad anyway, who has been working his ass off for the last 35+ years to support her inimitable ability to habitually spend all of his money on absolutely nothing of any necessity, worth, or lasting value at all) she's discovered the games that we all are also addicted to. I'm finding myself quite impressed to see the increasingly frequent updates of her plowing along on her farm and blackmailing federal agents. I'm patting myself on the back as I picture my dad pleased as punch to find her "fake" buying weapons galore and stashes of strawberries. Though I have briefly worried that she would find the section where you can actually spend real money in these games, I reason that even if she were to foolishly do so, it would still be cheaper than even one of her impromptu Saturday morning "went out to get a newspaper and look what I found at the 27 garage sales on the way!" money drainers.
So she returned home and began facebooking regularly. We chat. We send gifts via games. We post on each other's walls. We have common friends. Everything was great. Until...
My mom became my grandmother.
Now my grandmother was already on facebook, but she was one of those who are "read only" kinda people. They have a profile, and people put stuff on there for HER to see, but she's not gonna respond or reply or anything. It's basically the way the Wilford Brimleys have compromised with us younger than 50 crowd - they will electronically connect, but it's a one-way street. They can receive, but can't reciprocate. And that's okay. It makes us all feel a little less guilty at night about not calling our ____ (fill in the name of the old person you know you should've called in the last week) lately.
So grandma's been on facebook, but suddenly grandma is farming. Then not only is she farming, but she's got a fish tank. Then another fish tank. Then an island. Then a DIFFERENT farm. And she's got all these friends on all these games. And she's sending gifts from all these games. And my kids are concerned. "Mom? Why is great-grandma playing Farmville?" And I have to tell them all, "It's okay, children. Don't be afraid. It's just grandma becoming a tad schizophrenic. Just accept the gifts and pretend you don't notice."
Yes, that's right. My mother has been "helping" my grandmother with HER account, and while she's in there she's helping herself to a few extra gifts and status increases by impersonating my grandmother. She's one step away from internet identity, and right now she hasn't committed any real crime that I'm aware of, but how do I know how she really got that Gingerbread house on Farmville that was $25 Zynga dollars and I know damn well there is no WAY the woman had that many yet at her level????
But I kept quiet. I figured no harm, no foul, right? But now grandma has morphed again, and now she is her sister. That's right. My aunt who last I checked may or may not even have a computer is now level 12 on Country Life and catching up to grandma PDQ. And if that wasn't enough, then came the icing on the Jerry Springer inbred farm. That's right...my mom became my dad. And NOW my kids are scared, because not 2 months ago the man sat right here and said, "There's no way in hell I'm getting on that damn computer and playing those games." Whoa, there, grandpa. Better never say never 'cuz guess who's kicking serious mobster ass and has a chicken coop full of mystery eggs???
Yep, someone's been a busy little bee this past month holding down a full-time job AND supporting four different facebook personalities. My mother is a farmer, a mobster, a fisher, a castaway, and God only knows what else she's doing that I can't even see yet! I feel partially responsible for not keeping a tighter rein on her while she was here, but I foolishly believed that the parent could still be more responsible than the child. As I shake my head in disappointment and despair, I wonder how it might have been before my mother became so many people, and the only ray of light is knowing that she'll probably enjoy her time in the Witness Protection Program after I turn her ass in for identity theft. Good luck mom/dad/grandma....whoever you are, wherever you are!
Queen of my own Magic Kingdom, full of all the irreverent, obnoxious, and sometimes offensive sarcasm you know and love. I don't care what people think of me, but I do care if you like my blog. Read, forward, repeat.
