One new friends request: Your mother

Inspired by my parents, who have just joined the Social Network.

Dear Parents,

I wonder why you thought it was a good idea to create yourself an account. You claim that you did it to connect with old college friends and because you really liked that Justin Timberlake movie, but I think we all know that it’s really just another way for you to try to seem hip and embarrass me at the same time. Like all those times in middle school when you came to pick me up with hard-core rap music blasting from the car. I’m sure you can imagine my excitement when I saw my newest friend request was not from that cute boy in my seminar, but instead from you. And just when I reached what I thought was the height of embarrassment, you added all my friends, too.

But seriously, what are you doing? How will you survive this complex world of social networking when you barely know how to use the weather app on your iPhone? (It’s the one that says “Weather,” Mom.)

When I didn’t accept your friend requests right away, you seemed a little offended. I guess my friends thought it was funny or something because they added you right away, and you tried using that against me. I almost felt bad until you asked me how many cows you should buy for your farm. Really now? Farmville?

I can’t blame my friends — I often find their parents’ Facebook faux pas quite precious. Like during those first few months when all their statuses are actually wall posts meant for others because they still haven’t quite figured out the difference between the two. Or when they frantically comment “????????” on their son’s hacked Facebook status that he is “watching porn with dad.” Or when their habit of friending random people that post on their daughter’s wall goes awry when they happen to add the guy she’s hooking up with — and she is left to explain to him that yes, that friend request is from her dad, and no, she has no idea why he sent it.

Yes, I’ve had my fair share of laughs over their innocent blunders, but what is really scary is that some of them are creepily adept at Facebook stalking. An actual conversation — Mom texting her daughter: Who is that Evan boy you’ve just friended? I looked at his other pictures and he is so handsome!! Daughter: Wtf Mom. Um, please let this never happen to me. I think I would rather you maintain your naivete because the thought of you skillfully navigating Facebook is slightly horrifying. So while I’d prefer not to know that you’re a fan of skinny-dipping and am not particularly interested in your constant status updates (this is not Twitter), these blunders do serve as comforting reminders that despite your best efforts, you still haven’t mastered the art that is Facebook. Thus, even with your long wall-to-walls with my friends and awkward comments on pictures that aren’t even mine, I think I will stay friends with you because I do kind of miss you. But I need you to meet me halfway here, and that means stop trying to start a poke war and stop posting baby pictures of me naked in a bathtub.

Sincerely,

Someone who is young enough to legitimately have a Facebook