Along with politely declining requests to grow gardens, throw sheep or cause upset by ordering disparate friends and acquaintances by strict order of preference, I now have something else to worry about when it comes to Facebook – that my mum will get a direct feed of everything I mention or do.
Facebook seemed to reach a critical mass when it filled up with everyone from the BBC and the Guardian, but something else must have happened off my radar as now my not-exactly-tech-literate extended family all have profiles and are bombarding me with stupid app requests.
I’m fairly careful about what I say on the internet anyway, both for professional reasons and the fact that I’m nice and don’t want to upset anyone, so it’s not as if I have anything to hide – but somehow I liked social networking better when it wasn’t full of people I see all the time. All mothers get confused and worry, so now I have not only got the pressure of coming up with a status update that’s: witty, true, immediate, in the right tense to deal with the crappy ‘is’, and somehow impressive without being boastful but I’ve got to worry about how my mum’s overly literal brain will interpret it. Out will go any obtuse references to TV programmes, films, books and music as I don’t fancy having to explain them all, out will go even vague nods to being upset, angry, or even annoyed as mum will be on the phone wanting the low-down.
Oh, and don’t worry – she hasn’t quite ‘got’ blogs yet.