Yesterday was a long eventful, action packed extravaganza that started at 5 am, included school trips to the Air and Space museum with a bunch of 3rd graders, various shuttling between friends homes and a late supper.
Apparently at some point I angered and annoyed my children enough that they would attempt to socially destroy me for fun.
In retaliation for all this schlepping around someone quietly took my Iphone logged into my Facebook account and left obscene ramblings for some of my friends that ended up on the news feed for everyone to see.
They included explanations of why I was a bitch, told everyone that I had been quietly having plastic surgery (to which I’m sure all my pals said “I knew it!”) and referred to me as a whore and a gobshite and other assorted foul things. The dead giveaway that this was not me was the misspelling of various curse words.
Anyone who knows me knows I would never get an expletive wrong.
And I’m sorry, a whore? (or as they spelled it; hore) I haven’t officially qualified for whore status since the last time the occupants of a tour bus threw me out onto a curb! The NERVE!
I had to vault over a concrete wall with the kind of speed and agility reserved for criminals escaping and Steve Prefontaine during a track meet and commandeer the computer of one of my dear friends to remove the smut from the Facebook universe.
Sadly it was basically too late. The news feed had already fed into several friends blackberries and apparently it stays there frozen solid in permanence even though it’s been wiped from the main page.
So, thanks kids!
Next time you decide to hatch a revenge plot, make sure you don’t choose friends of mine who are even more foul-mouthed and tempered than I am. More importantly, I now know of the bottomless depths of your subterfuge and will be waiting suspiciously around every corner until you leave for college.
Even better, I’m going to throw out all those parenting books I’ve read and wreck a little havoc of my own. How does that sound?
Not so funny anymore is it?
When you upset your primary caregiver you have just bitten the hand that feeds, clothes, chauffeurs, hugs and kisses you.
Not giggling so much now, huh?