Once, twice–even thrice–mom’s message has been read.
You rub your eyes, scratch your head–you can’t believe what she actually just said…
“To my four older children, what you have suspected for almost 20 years is true…”
If there ever was an ominous opening to an email from mother, this would have to be it. Fortunately, my position amongst the siblings born from my mamma’s loins was #5–the final one to be brought forth into this world before there would be no more. And thus, as the Lastborn Child, it was clear this maternal missive was not directed at me, so the suspense about what might come next was, well, lacking. So foot-loose and fancy free, I soldiered on through the text on my screen:
“Well, there’s no easy way to put this: your Baby Brother, even now that he’s a grown man, is still my favorite child.”
“Mom!” I thought to myself, “I’m in college–you can stop calling me ‘Baby’!” I couldn’t help but chuckling a little before continuing.
“Now, that doesn’t mean I love you four any less–nay, to the contrary, I probably love you even more than I would had I not had that Ray of Sunshine in my life. And because I love you so much, I am telling you–from a position of unconditional love–this fundamental Truth of this Universe: a parent will always have a favorite child, regardless what they may claim to the contrary. And I think it’s only fair to you that we stop pretending that we all don’t know that our little Boy Genius is my Golden Child, the Apple of my Eye, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.”
I couldn’t help blush a little bit at all the excessive titles and gratuitous superlatives being heaped upon my head.
“In fact, I bet you all feel the same way about him as I do. C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t just love that Little Rascal? He’s so funny and witty, and makes all of us laugh and feel better about ourselves in general1Once finished with this story, come back and re-read this oh-so-ironic line.–excepts when he thumps us in Scrabble, of course. But, despite his intellectual dominance and superior vocabulary, I know that we all hope that one day, that little Brainiac of ours will be wealthy enough for all of us to spend Christmases together in a well-appointed log cabin somehwere in the snow-clad mountains!2This really was something Brother #2 had said on multiple occasions. In another ironic twist, it is he who is most likely to rent a cabin our entire family…despite having no college degree. Oh, doesn’t that just sound so wonderful??”
Well, I must say, at this point, this email was starting to sound a little over the top. Thankfully, I could see that we only had one more paragraph to go.
“As I bring this email to a close, I wanted to end it by encouraging you to show him how much he means to all of us. The kiddo is having a little harder time financial as a college sophomore, compared to his freshman year when he was basically drowning in an excess of one-year scholarships…so maybe send him some cash. His half-birthday is coming up and it would be a perfect time shower him with some monetary love. Signed, Your Loving Mother, Xo“
As I read over the entire email one more time, I couldn’t help but thinking, “What kind of mother would send this to her children?!?”
I leaned back in my dorm chair and took one last look at my computer screen.
“Yup,” I said under my breath, “Totally nailed it!”
Rather satisfied with the final draft, I hit the Send button…
“Dear Jeff, I understand that it was only yesterday that you emphasized Western Wireless’s3Which would eventually merge with AllTel, who would go on to merge with Verizon… policy in regards to locking our work computers whenever we leave our cubicles; I was fully present and attentive for that team meeting, I can assure you of that.”
For an email to our common supervisor, this opening statement seemed rather pedestrian. That wasn’t surprising though, coming from my middle-aged co-worker, Lara. True, she had a sense of humor, and we shared a good laugh together from time to time, but when it came to work matters at the our Customer Care Call Center, she was typically all business. So of course she would begin her emails so verbosely, yet so respectfully.
“However, I think you should know that I must ask for a religious exception to this overly-oppressive patriarchal policy. What a woman does with her keyboard is none of a man’s business. And you, of all people–a certified so-called bleeding heart liberal–should understand that it’s ‘My mouse, my choice’. Hands off!”
Whoa, that intra-office communique just took a turn.
“So, with all due respect, I will be refusing to lock my computer for the foreseeable future. Thank you for your understanding in this matter. Appreciatively, Lara.”
For such a short email, it sure packed a punch. And what a sh*t-show it was too. Just like passing and accident on the highway, I couldn’t look away.
I couldn’t resist re-reading it…
Moments later, I couldn’t help but shake my dang head, thinking to myself, “What kind of employee would send an email like this to her boss?!?”
I peeked over my shoulder and Lara heading back to her desk from the communal break.
Rather satisfied with the final draft, I hit the Send button and ducked back into my cubicle…
The point of the story is identify theft is no laughing matter.
Oh sure, I thought I was being absolutely hilarious with my clever little stunts. But were my siblings bemused by the utterly ridiculous email they received from “Mom”? You know, the one full of words and phrases that she would never use–never mind the fact that she actually does love all her children equally and unconditionally? Like, that email was so obviously written by their prankster little brother who was always on the lookout for a good laugh, surely they would get the joke after the first sentence, and be in stitches, rolling on the floor laughing. It was humorous! Unbelievably humorous, I say!
And did El Jefe Jeff and Co-worker Lara appreciate the cheeky way in which I tried to gently remind her that she did indeed need to lock her computer during her potty breaks?
Hmmm, let’s see:…let me answer those questions one person at a time: No, no, no, no, no–one for each sibling and one for Dear Mother–and no and no. Okay, maybe one of the brothers caught the joke and that it might have been mildly amusing at best.
But all other parties? Not so much.
Here I was, thought I was making outlandish claims that clearly weren’t true. Um…as it turns out, at least one unnamed sibling actually had pretty strong feelings about one or two of us other kids being Mom’s favorite. And, much to my dismay, I only discovered this when their shock and deep hurt was relayed to me by Mom. That wasn’t exactly my aim, but ----- if I didn’t bear fully responsibility for the fallout of the situation. And, on top of all that, Mom came thiiiiis close to changing her Hotmail password to one I didn’t know (for the record, I’m her de facto IT support, and had set up her email and occasionally needed to help her with combating spam, etc.).
As for Jeff, well, I’m just lucky he didn’t fire my sorry impersonating ass. Fortunately, that was the only blemish on my otherwise stellar record during my 16 months with Western Wireless.
Lara, on the other hand…well, it was even worse with her. She totally didn’t get the joke, and was absolutely pissed at me–so much so that, despite my profuse and multiple apologies, not only did she (a grown-ass 40-something woman) give me the silent treatment for 3 solid weeks, another co-worker that we were both friends/friendly with gave me the silent treatment as well.
There was no reasoning with them. It was insane: it was like, “What are we? In junior high? This is ridonkulous, I say!”
Welp, what can I say though, what you sow is what you reap, and again it all came down to my poor judgement as to what made for quality comedy.
*sigh*
If I could hop in a time machine and go back to have a little chat with my 20-something-year-old self,4…and my 30-year-old self…and my 40-year-old self…and my 42-year-old self… here’s what I’d would try so desperately to impress upon him:
In the end, it doesn’t matter if you made a person laugh if in the process you made them feel like crap…
Content created on: 25/27 September 2024 (Weds/Fri)
Footnotes & References:
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