Dear Kid,

To the driver who drove flew by me on this highway today:

You must be incredibly important to be going so fast.

I’m not exactly going below the speed limit, yet you were a mere flash as you zoomed past me on the highway.

Maybe you’re a surgeon on your way to a lifesaving emergency in the ER. Except you were heading away from the hospital.

Maybe you’re a lawyer on your way to argue a life or death case. Except you were driving away from the courthouse.

Maybe a fire fighter on your way to a 17-alarm blaze. Except I checked the news—not so much as an out of control candle in the area.

Whoever you are, I hope you saved a lot of time.

Time to feel badly about cutting off other drivers.

Time to chat with whichever police officer pulls you over for breaking the sound barrier on a major thoroughfare.

Time to recuperate and recover in the hospital after you plow into an unsuspecting guardrail.

You must really be important.

Not.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid,

Facebook said “Today is Little Annie’s 16^th birthday.”

I said, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Facebook said, “Really, it is her birthday.”

I said, “Oh, I believe it’s her birthday, but not that she’s 16. She’s Little Annie because she’s a little girl. If she were all grown up she’d be called All Grown Up Annie.”

Facebook said, “Maybe you haven’t seen her for a while. She’s definitely 16.”

I said, “It seems more probably to me that you miscounted.”

Facebook said, “That’s not how reality works.”

I said, “That’s one of the reasons I form my own reality. Yours keeps causing improbable things to happen. Like little girls growing up.”

Facebook said, “Perhaps you should look in the mirror.”

I said, “I am still as young as ever.”

Facebook said, “You’ve taught your mirror to lie well.”

Facebook is impertinent.

I’d like to say Facebook and I aren’t on speaking terms anymore but that’s even more ridiculous than Little Annie being old enough to drive. Especially since I plan to send Annie a FB message that says “Happy 12^th Birthday” so that we can return reality to the world.

While we’re at it, you don’t need to grow up so quickly either.

Love, Mom

P.S. Annie–do NOT text and drive. EVER.