Oedipus Wrecks

My Mom friended me on Facebook. Then she asked me to confirm that I am her husband.

I knew accepting my Mom as a friend had risks. Mom now has access to the contributions of grad school friends to the Wall. While there is some risk of embarrassment there, she knows that I am not accountable for other's ideas. Most of the stuff is pretty tame, anyway.

On the flip side, I worry more that she will be posting inappropriate content to my wall, or invite me to strange groups. It took me six months to get her to remove my work email address from her list of joke recipients. The content was borderline, and certainly not the kind of stuff you want your employer to pick up on a random filter. The dreaded call from HR: "We'd like to talk to you about the high number of inappropriate emails you seem to receive." And my response, "Yeah, um, I know. It's my Mom." The call never came, but the anxiety was high. When she finally figured out how to remove my name from the list, she seemed hurt that I didn't want to receive her jokes.

This latest request, though, is tough. Do I turn her down, and by so doing get my Dad, who gifted me with his name, in trouble? I'm not sure he even knows what Facebook is. He would walk around for months, wondering why Mom is so pissed at him. When she finally confronted him with his denial of matrimonial fidelity, his apparent lack of memory would only serve to infuriate her more. Or do I accept the request in the spirit of family harmony, and then never acknowledge or answer any questions from friends who have no idea why I am now married to Marie and what happened to Allyson?

My daughter refused to friend me two years ago. She takes this latest request from my mother as proof her judgment was correct. Parents are not to be trusted on Facebook. I see her point. Yet I feel bad that we as a group are not to be trusted. I am savvy enough to not make these kind of mistakes. But as in ancient times, the sins of the Mother are visited upon the son.

Maybe I'll just ignore the request. I'll pretend I don't see it. Kind of like stabbing my eyes out. Oedipus wrecks, indeed.