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Is it just me, or does everyone's mom become a tech support genius the moment they get a smartphone? My mom, bless her heart, she's entered the digital age, but it's like watching a cat try to use a computer. She'll call me up in a panic, "The internet is broken!" And I'm like, "Mom, did you try turning off the Wi-Fi and turning it back on?" It's the universal fix, right? And emojis! Moms and emojis are like a comedy duo. I'll send her a simple smiley face, and she'll respond with a thumbs up, a heart, a cat, a pizza, and the entire cast of the Emoji Movie. I'm like, "Mom, it's a smiley face, not a hieroglyphic message."
But the best part is when she discovers voice messages. Now, every text I get is a ten-minute audio clip of her narrating her day. It's like a one-woman podcast that I never subscribed to. Mom, if you're listening, I love you, but I don't need an audiobook of your trip to the grocery store.
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You ever notice how moms behave on social media? My mom is the queen of oversharing. I'll log in, and there's a photo album titled "My Weekend Adventure." It's just 37 pictures of her gardening. I'm thinking, "Mom, this is not an adventure. This is you pulling weeds." And the comments! Moms have this secret language on Facebook. Instead of a simple "like," they leave a comment like, "Oh, sweetie, that's nice. Love, Mom." It's like they're sending telegrams in the 21st century. And God forbid you forget to respond. You'll get a follow-up message: "Did you see my comment, dear?"
But the best part is when they discover hashtags. My mom tried to hashtag her entire sentence. I got a message that said, "#Just #made #delicious #dinner #love #my #family #blessed." Mom, you're not a walking Instagram post.
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You know, my mom, she's got this whole philosophy about motherhood. She says, "Being a mom is like being a superhero, but with more laundry." And I'm thinking, "Well, if you're a superhero, Mom, where's your cape?" Because all I see is that stain-fighting pen you keep in your purse. Seems like moms have this magical ability to find stuff. I lose my keys, and I'm tearing the house apart. Mom loses her keys, and it's like she's playing a game of hot and cold with the universe. "Warmer... warmer... hot! Found it!" I'm convinced moms have a secret hotline to the cosmic Lost and Found.
But you know, my mom's also got this talent for giving advice at the most inconvenient times. Like, I could be in the middle of a crisis, and she'll drop a life lesson on me. I'm like, "Mom, I appreciate the wisdom, but can we save the profound moments for when I'm not stuck in traffic?
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Now, my mom is a fantastic cook, but she's got some interesting theories about food. She's always saying, "Cooking is an art, not a science." And I'm thinking, "Mom, have you seen the way I cook? It's more like a chaotic experiment than a masterpiece." Her secret ingredient for everything is love. I'll ask, "What's in this lasagna, Mom?" She'll wink and say, "Love, and maybe a little too much garlic." And let's talk about her cooking measurements. "A pinch of this, a dash of that." Mom, I need specifics! I can't just pinch my way to a gourmet meal.
But the real challenge is when she tries to teach me her recipes. It's like a culinary game of telephone. She'll say, "Add a cup of flour," and I'll hear, "Throw in a tub of butter." Mom, I appreciate the cooking lessons, but I'm pretty sure my arteries don't.
And then there's her signature dish: "Mom's Mystery Casserole." It's got a bit of everything she found in the fridge. I asked her what's in it once, and she said, "Oh, just a little bit of love, dear." I'm convinced that's code for "I lost track of the ingredients." Mom, I love you, but I'll stick to ordering takeout.
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