Text: Just saw a weird Old Spice commercial.
Translation: I saw a commercial that had a lot of screaming in it. Please explain your millennial culture to me?
Text: Your father told me you had a good time this weekend.
Translation: I had to hear updates about your life from the parent that didn’t have to throw up for nine straight months every time they smelled bacon.
Text: Going to the lake with the girls. Should be fun!
Translation: I’ll trade you one piece of information about my life for one piece about yours.
Text: I saw a squirrel on the bird feeder again.
Translation: I need you to come over and murder this squirrel.
Text: I hope your show was good last night.
Translation: Last time your father and I made it to one of your shows there was a sketch about sentient bowel movements. We will continue to offer support from our profanity-free home.
Text: Did you see that picture on Facebook of the scarf I made?
Translation: Like and/or comment on some of my Facebook posts every now and then. It helps me know that you’re still alive. Also, it’s the least you can do since I sacrificed my body, time, and energy so that you could grow up to write snarky “comedy” pieces about me.
Text: Ah, dangit. You got 30+ points again in our Words With Friends game. Stinker!
Translation: Let me get this straight, I endured three full years of you living here after college only for you to continually beat me (badly!) at Words With Friends? LET ME WIN A COUPLE TIMES!
Text: Have a great time in Chicago next weekend. Dress warm!
Translation: I still get terrified when you go on big trips. Text me every 30 minutes to let me know you didn’t die on the flight over.
Text: So glad you and Jennifer came over for dinner last night.
Translation: I am trying very hard to accept your girlfriend. Even though you are an angel and nobody will ever be good enough for my baby boy. I will eat her heart if she hurts you.
Text: OMG Dad told me about your bonus!! Congratulations!!
Translation: Your father and I had to buy you three pairs of jeans within six months back when you went through your pyromaniac phase in sixth grade. Feel free to use some of that money to take me to the movies. Or buy me jeans.
Text: I made two cool vases in class tonight.
Translation: Send me flowers.
Text: Your sister sent me some nice pictures of her hiking trip in Arkansas.
Translation: I know I’m not supposed to play favorites but your sister is winning.
Text: Janice, from clay molding class, made a cool pot. Kinda looks like mine. Ha ha
*Picture of pot in text*
Translation: Janice is a stuck-up bitch that copies my designs. Tell me mine is better.
Text: I love you.
Translation: I love watching you grow up but it simultaneously rips me apart because I have to face the fact that you don’t need me as much as you used to. And I know that you don’t understand the bond between mother and son from my perspective and I’m doing my best to not hold that against you. I just need you to make an effort to keep me updated because it’s my remaining link to your life. I loved you then, I love you now, and I will always love you. Also, thanks for killing that damn squirrel.