My Mother Stole My Identity

Last night somewhere around midnight, my phone rang.  I have a customized ringtone for my mother, so I was immediately jolted out of my deep sleep thinking that something might be wrong with my father.

“Hello?”  I said, disoriented.

“Hey!  Are you awake?”

“Ugh… (midnight speak for, “um, NO”)

“I think I just messed something up.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, I was commenting on your Chronicle blog and I though it would ask me to register, but it didn’t, and the comment went straight through and put your picture up next to it.”

“What?”

“Did I wake you?  Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, Ma… it’s no big deal.”

“Your picture is next to my comment.”

“It’s okay, Mom.  You’re probably still signed in under my profile; I forgot I posted from your computer while I was down there.”

“Oh.  Did I mess something up?”

“No…. ”

“Oh.  Okay.  Go back to sleep.”

The phone slid from my hands as my head fell back into the pillow.  When I awoke this morning, I went to check the damage.  I couldn’t help but laugh… there it was, Mom’s sage words of wisdom next to my little Smurf picture. But the thing that made me the most proud was this:

She left the Caps Lock off.  Yea, Mom!

We’re making progress.



One Response to “My Mother Stole My Identity”

  1.   Mom Says:

    GO TO YOUR ROOM YOUNG LADY!