OK. I admit it. I would not have wanted my mother to be my Facebook friend when I was 16 years old. But it's irrelevant since Al Gore invented the internet long after I was out of high school.
At any rate, I was completely dumbfounded when I noticed that my 16-year-old daughter Linda had unfriended me this afternoon.
"I heard you laughing about my status update with Aunt Wendy," Linda explained.
"I was not!" I said defensively. "Wendy was laughing about my comment!"
Between us friends, Wendy was telling me that she thought Linda's 'Parents are stupid and annoying' status update was funny, but she found my comment of 'Very nice, Linda' to be hilarious.
(It's so special when my family's lack of domestic tranquility provides such entertainment across Facebook.)
"I don't want you in my biz-ness," Linda proclaimed.
What business? Has she joined a gang since she unfriended me at noon? This was getting serious.
"Linda, if you ever expect to do ANYTHING AGAIN IN YOUR LIFETIME, you will accept my friend request."
"Then I'm gonna make that my status update: 'My mom says I can't do anything again in my life if I don't accept her friend request' How pathetic is that?"
"Go ahead! And don't forget to mention that you're out of my will if you don't accept my friend request!"
"Can I drive?"
"Only my Facebook friends can drive my car."
Nothing else was said about the topic. We had a very pleasant afternoon making flowers (that don't look at all like these flowers) on our vanilla cookies.
I checked my Facebook about an hour ago and discovered that Linda accepted my friend request. She's back in the will.
Let the stalking begin.