Thanks, Mom.

Oh how I love the questions, comments and requests I get from my mother when she “finds the time” to peruse Facebook…

“I NEVER get on Facebook, but I just saw…”  <–insert any activity here and then one of the following usually comes next…

“Where were you?”

“Please take it down.”

“Do you always have a drink in your hand?”

“Oh that looked fun.”

“Who said you don’t know anything about love?”

“You girls looked pretty.”

“Who is that guy?”

“Are you dating him?”

I could go on, but you get the idea.  And I’m sure most people can relate at this point in the Moms on social media game.  My new favorite from a phone call last night could be the best.

“Erin, what is resting bitch face?”

I laughed, obviously, and tried to explain the pop culture name for lack of expression.  The most adorable part of this conversation was that she was being super protective. She thought people were picking on me and she didn’t like it at all.  She was not happy about people saying I have this condition, even though it’s pretty much true.  I have RBF.  I’ve come to terms with it.  It’s nothing new, so why is she surprised?

“I’m not really a B, Mom, I apparently just look like one. I guess that’s why it’s funny. Get it?”  She finally did.

Then she told me it’s why I’m single. 

One thought on “Thanks, Mom.

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