and entering

Why Call Me When You Could Just Post a Picture of Us on a Social Media Platform I Don’t Use?

Of course our cherished memories of your childhood can be sufficiently summarised in a single Facebook post.

Dear Child,

Today is that special day that comes around once every year when you honor me for growing a person - you - inside my stomach for nine months and then hatching you in a 21-hour-long ordeal. My body will never be the same after breastfeeding you until you were 42 months old (that’s three and a half, in case you forgot), and you want to thank me for that.

There are a lot of ways you could have chosen to express your gratitude. WBUR has their special deal on flowers; CVS has kitschy cards. If using the allowance I give you to buy me one of these gifts is too much trouble, of course, you could always call me on the smartphone that I bought you.

You, of course, chose to go a different route: posting an unflattering picture of the two of us on a social media platform I don’t have. Why bother dropping a line to tell me you love me when you can just write a paragraph about how much I’ve done for you on Instagram, right?

I didn’t even see the post myself, because once again, I don’t use that social media platform. Your sister showed me so I could help her decide if it was too late for her to post a picture of her at age two in an adorable onesie I got her and me with pronounced eyebags, stained teeth from my coffee addiction, and a spot of pear mush from Gerber My 1st™ Fruits Starter Kit on my shirt.

I mean, what is Mother’s Day if not an excuse for you to exploit your child self’s cuteness and/or the good genes that you got from ME to get a lot of likes on a picture I would never have known existed? Forget the woman who washed your sheets every day when you started wetting the bed again when you were nine. Today is about YOU.



© 2016