Lately, whenever I talk to my mom she ends our conversation by saying, “don’t tell the Internet.” It doesn’t matter what she’s telling me, something about a cousin, her boss, my dad, what she needs to pick up at the grocery store, whatever it is she doesn’t want you, Internet, to know.
Sorry, I know you are disappointed.
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I hope you don’t tell her the stuff we say. That would be MORTIFYING.
Next time I talk to her I’ll make sure to say, “The Internet didn’t want me to tell you this, but. . .” and then talk about Twitter or something.
she should get her own blog and put up stories about you as a kid with pictures and slide shows.
She can’t because I asked her not to tell the Internet stories about me when I was a kid, especially that one time I had to go to the hospital because I shoved a button up my nose.