Someday, Our Kids Will Blog About How Their Moms Blogged About Them
Scene: Typical state university dorm room of 2022—poster of Kermit the Frog, lava lamp, mini stainless steel fridge, UN flag round out the decor. A group of freshman students lounge on the beds and floor. They pass around an Xtreme Red Bull Brand Pomegranate and Ultraviolet Baby Leaf Tea Wine Cooler with DHA and ARA and a candy cigarette. We join the conversation in media res.
Blayden: Steve or Joe?
Emmayden: Joe! Mr. Noodle or Mr. Noodle’s brother, Mr. Noodle?
Poppy: Totally Mr. Noodle. Did you hear Mr. Noodle died when his head exploded after eating too many pieces of popcorn chicken? It’s too bad they had to stop making them.
Joel: Yeah. When I was like four-years-old that was all I ate.
Cecilia: Me too!
Joel: I think my mom probably wrote about it on her blog. Like everything else.
Hannah-Savannah: Tell me about it. My mom had like five blogs.
Joel: My mom had one, then three, then one again, then two. I bet there are still blogs out there she has hasn’t updated in fifteen years.
Savannah-Montana: Did she have a digital camera?
Joel: Of course. By the time my baby sister, Beatrix, was born we probably had over 10,000 pictures on our computer. My mom loved her camera. I remember one afternoon, about 15 years ago, when she took like thirty pictures of a piece of cake from all different angles. I asked her why she was taking pictures of cake. She mumbled something about how she could bake something pretty, put it on a pretty plate, and put it on her pretty blog. What a Bushhead!
Zippy Boy: My mom used my pseudonym on her blog so much, she forgot my actual name.
The group sighs in unison
Joel: Well, my mom used my actual name. Please don’t GoogleHoo it! I’m never going to get a date. Or a job. I was almost kidnapped by a group of rogue clowns when she wrote a disparaging post about them. Hey, pass that cigarette. I hope the RA doesn’t smell the sugar from under the door.
Poppy: I gotta go. I haven’t checked my stats in over ten minutes.
Savannah-Montana: Me too.
The students rise and exit. Joel remains. A phone rings. Joel takes a small phone out of his pocket.
Joel: Oh, hi Mom. (pause) I love you too.