Facebook War: Attack Of The Parentals

jtjuvenile knows that you already friended your mom. Quit frontin'.—Sparkitors

“Accept me, or I shall ground you.”

“I sent you a friend request  on Facebook. It’s up to you if you want to add me.”

“FINE, I promise I  won’t upload your baby pictures on my Facebook account if you accept my friend  invite.”

We've all given in to the statements above, and whether it was a quid pro quo arrangement (read: bribery) or a thoughtless decision that you now regret (read: you THOUGHT your dad  was cool enough to be your Facebook pal), it’s now too late to turn back. You’ve already  clicked the “Accept” button and the mortifying interwebz manifestation of parental affection is taking a toll on your reputation. If you can’t bear the “I’m so proud of you, hun! LOVE YOU LIKE A TIGER” messages scattered all over your  wall anymore, yet you can’t block them for fear of retaliation in the form of  allowance cuts, here’s a game plan* you can consider:

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction—Isaac Newton. Who said  scientific laws aren’t applicable in every facet of life? Your parents have been dropping jelly bean bombs all over your Facebook territory  and it’s  time to gun up your fighter jets and return the favor.
Step 1: Scrawl  sickly sweet notes on their walls, topped with TMI icing.

Example: Dear mommy, I heart you so much. You make my day beat with the rhythm of a  thousand unicorns dancing under the rainbow streaked halcyon sky. I love you.
P.S I forgive you for tossing in your sexy pink negligee with my white (now unforgivably pink)   socks.
P.P.S Dad will love it. Rock your curves, woman.

OR you can treat their wall as a bulletin board. Except that instead of taping notes written on tissue paper to the fridge in the kitchen, leave a myriad of annoyingly brief notes:

Example: Yo, dad. I need fifty bucks.

Mom, can you stop by the supermarket later? We’re out of cereal, and you know I NEED to have  my free toys or I’ll throw a fit.

There’s a cockroach in the bathroom. Waiting for you to come back and kill it.

Please throw away your white shirt with the orange polka dots. You’re  embarrassing me.

Step 2: Since Facebook is now a tool for connecting with/spying on your offspring, it makes sense that we use this lack of privacy to our advantage.
Mom: So how was your day?
You: Check my  Facebook wall.
Mom: You had band practice, right? How did it go?
You: It’s all on my wall. I frequently update my statuses.
Mom: Hmm, okay. Do you have any homework?
You: MOM, IT’S ALL ON MY WALL.

Alternatively, if your parents are avid Facebook users, here’s another tactic: stalk their walls and make sure you have enough  information to make this conversation happen:

Dad: We’re  going to visit…
You: Grandma this Saturday. I saw the Facebook feed.
Mom: I’m going to bring…
You: A beef casserole which is a secret  recipe passed down from your great grandmother.
Mom: Wait. You know it verbatim?
You: Like I said, I saw the Facebook feed.
Mom: Remember  to…
You: Remind you to bring utensils. Like I said, I SAW THE FACEBOOK FEED.

Step 3: Write a piece of sensational news guaranteed to make your friends’ synapses go crazy  (e.g. JAKE ASKED ME OUT TO THE SPRING FLING) and then tag your parents in that post under the guise of keeping them informed. Rejoice as your dad complains the next morning that he has 168 Facebook notifications in his email waiting  to be deleted.

Step 4: Snap a few unflattering shots of them and upload it  into an album titled “Un-glam Pictures Of Mah Parents.” Bonus points if you  manage to get a photo of your parents wearing matching Spongebob Squarepants  pajamas.

With these juvenile battle strategies, our legal guardians will  most likely be able to follow the Hansel & Gretel trail of Logic bread  crumbs all the way to the “Stop Actively Leaving Messages On My Kid’s Facebook  Wall” Gingerbread Town. You can thank me with e-cookies.

Are your padres blowin' up your FB wall?

Related post: Confessions of An RA: Pleasing the Parentals