Let me start by saying I love him. I love my young adult son with everything I have and everything I am. But he has pushed me past my allotted amount of patience and I’m about to open a can of whoop ass on him.
I suppose I can blame the whole thing on a certain social media channel in which I don’t participate and that I’ll never fully understand. From what I hear, it’s all about short videos that disappear almost as soon as they’re posted. It’s about silly filters and facial and voice distortion. And here’s the thing about this technology that has pitched me over the proverbial edge: it’s also about kids (and apparently young adults) secretly taking pictures of or videoing their mothers, captioning these photos or videos, and sharing them with their friends. My son, who I am certain has done this to me, promises he’s only sharing the photos and videos with his brother, but I’m calling Pinocchio on that.
Allow me to defend myself for a moment. I love to laugh and I do love funny videos. I could watch “Heather Land—I Ain’t Doin’ It” all day long; I look forward to those bug eyes and that helium voice as much as anyone. But I’ll be honest, I prefer laughing at other people who are trying to be funny rather than being laughed at when I’m not.
I am not trying to be funny when I wear no makeup and my hair is a fright and my clothes are frumpy. I’m not going for a laugh when I’m sitting in a recliner with my laptop, my reading glasses pulled low on my nose, and my triple chin. I’m really not in the mood to be videoed from behind when I’m walking down the driveway or the aisle of the grocery store. Call me a prude if you want, but I’m just not into it.
I am, however, into having pictures taken when I’m ready. And by ready, I mean full makeup, cute clothes, a nice smile, and a good angle. I’m talking fake here. I want to look better in pictures than I look in real life, not worse thank you much. I want to look like everything about my life is perfect all the time. And what could be wrong with that?
Maybe this is nature’s way of getting us moms back for over sharing about our kids when they were younger. But here’s a little advice to the sons and daughters out there secretly filming their moms: don’t get caught. Because as for this scrappy mom, the next time I catch my son taking photos of me looking my worst…I might just have to reach over and open up a big ole can of whoop ass.
This post originally appeared on BLUNTMoms.com.