My Fakebook Status: Happy Anniversary to my soul mate, my rock, my reason for living.These past 17 years have been wonderful, and every morning I wake up next to you, I have to pinch myself to be sure that I’m really awake and not still dreaming. When you look at me, I still get that giddy feeling and butterflies in my stomach like the glorious day we met.
My Real Status:Butterflies? Actually, I had chili for dinner last night. You might want to steer clear of the upstairs bathroom.Oh, and can you grab me an extra roll of Scott’s from the closet just to be on the safe side? You may have to move my Preparation H and Immodium A.D. out of the way to reach it. Thanks – I knew there was a reason why I married you!(How’s that for romance?)
Posts like my Fakebook status kill me on so many levels. Here are three reasons I just threw up in my mouth by simply writing this, and every time I read a similar post.
1. First of all, my husband doesn’t have a Facebook. If I were to post my Fakebook status, he would never see it, so what the hell is the point? If he DID have a Facebook, I might throw a “Happy Anniversary, Dickhead,” on his wall, since it would be OUR anniversary, not all of Facebook’s. I'll probably just tell him in person anyway, since we do live together, and it's much easier than logging in, entering the password, typing the bullshit...etc.
- 2. If Facebook didn’t exist, would I carry around the Hallmark Anniversary card I bought him (if I even bothered, or vice versa) and show it to everyone I see to read? How obnoxious would that be? Enough said.
- 2. A Fakebooker will usually include some details about their celebratory plans, complete with photos! As if the status wasn’t enough, the Fakebooker blows up my newsfeed with pictures of flowers, their dinner at the restaurant (and of course they tag their beloved in the picture of the plate of meat and potatoes). A serious Fakebooker will even include a picture of their “Happy Anniversary” cake or special dessert that the chef of Restaurant X whipped up just for the occasion! I don’t need proof that it really is your anniversary, or proof that you are as happy as you say you are. Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?
In honor of my anniversary, I’ll do something nice for Boy, 45 (a/k/a Husband). I’m thinking maybe I’ll pick up the socks that he leaves rolled up in balls around the house without bitching. Leave him alone for the day about the fact that the Christmas Lights are STILL up, and until they come down, we won’t be getting down. Maybe for me, he’ll throw in a load of laundry or three, put the cap back on the toothpaste and put the toilet seat down for the day. At some point, we’ll both look at each other and wonder how the hell we have made it 17 years, when there were times we didn’t think we would last another 17 minutes! Happy Anniversary, Dickhead!
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