May 12, 2010

My Mother, My Stalker

Ring ring.
"Hello?"
"Meredith, it's Dad. Sorry to bother you at work. I am at the Verizon store. I was going to buy your mom one of those fancy phones, you know, the kind so she can check her email and Facebook. What kind should I get her?"


I take a deep breath and try not to scream no no no no no noooooooo, in general.

I try to talk him into the Blackberry, in the goodness of my heart, because I think its easier to use than my Android.

And frankly, the Android is just such a powerful ....stalking ....tool.

On the way home, I call Dad.

"So, what did you buy for Mom?"
"Oh, I got her the Droid."

I hear the death march from Star Wars in my head.

Four hours later, my Droid is going ding ding ding. And the horror hits. My mother is officially mobile.

I call her.

We chitchat over the funniness of her now being a Droider and I can barely hear over the squeals: do you know this thing can hear what you are thinking? She is tickled pink. But do not let the pink fool you: she is fierce, and now I know she is my most vicious stalker. And she's talking fast, like she's on crack: "How do I get your channel on YouTube? Look at all these what-are-they-called-applications? Ooooh, look at this picture of the babies! [loud squeal] Now, I can check Facebook at the carwash!"

So I have been warned.

I am now going to be watched constantly, more than ever before. It's like I have a nanny-cam. For myself. The desire for minute-by-minute pictures of the babies will increase. The hunger cannot be quenched. For my mother, my stalker is on the loose!

(How quickly did this post pop up on your Droid, Mom?!?) :)

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