My mother, like everyone else in the known universe, now has a Facebook page. I was on the phone with her while she was setting up her account:
Mom: Why do they want to know where I went to school?
Mom: (apparently looking through the questions that they ask you). They want to make it easier for people to find me. No. No!!! Oh god, why would I want that?
Me: That’s kind of how it works.
Mom: Well gross! I don’t want people to track me down! Why do I want to talk to people I went to college with?
Me: Wow, you’re perfecting the anti-social networking. You should join myspace instead. And then we can call it Mine, ALL MINE space.
Later in the conversation I had to explain to her what a zombie is. I told her that C was dressing up as one for Halloween and, somehow, she wasn’t clear on what makes a zombie?
Me: They’re like the living dead.
Mom: Like vampires?
Me: No, they don’t suck blood. They eat brains and they’re not as smart as vampires.
Mom: Do they eat brains because they’re stupid? Is it how they get smarter?
Me: Um, no. Well . . . no.
Mom: Why do they do it, then?
Me: I don’t know.
Mom: Why are they walking around? How do zombies get made?
Me: Depends on who you ask.
Mom: I’m asking you.
Me: There’s a few different ways, I guess. I’m not sure.
Mom: Does C know?
Mom: If she doesn’t know much about them, why did she dress up as one?
Me: Because it’s Halloween and it’s easy to do zombie makeup.
Mom: She didn’t look very dirty. Not at all like she climbed up out of a grave.
Me: Not all zombies were buried first.
Mom: How come?
Me: Was I like this when I was a kid? Because I’d like to apologize.
And just to clarify, it was close to 2 am at this point. We were so far into C-time that it was scary. How does Mom always find a way to make me realize I don’t know stuff? It’s amazing.