Postcards from Yo Momma

As I was reading this week's New Yorker, I came across a great piece on a website I've never heard of before - "Postcards from Yo Momma: A repository of modern day maternal correspondence." Naturally, a BRILLIANT idea for a website. It's so popular, the editors of the site even have a book out now. They post amusing letters/emails from mothers...mostly shared by their children.

Here are their all-time top rated letters (warning - some spicy language!). My favorite is the Facebook one:

Don’t Passive-Aggressive-Smile-Face-ME

Mom: So when we come to Sydney can we stay at yours?

Mom: Hello?

Me: Oh. Sure. Well, actually there are a number of awesome hotels just a two minute walk from my house. I’ve just emailed you a bunch of links. Have a look! Am happy to book any of them for you. But, yeah, of course you are welcome to stay at mine, if you really want to.

Me: Mom?

Mom: You were welcome to stay in my uterus for nine months, and then my house for 17 years. But I understand, a week at your apartment might be a bit … much.

Me: Don’t you passive-aggressive-smile-face-ME, woman.

Mom: Fuck off. Love you - M.

Subject: Get me out of here!

Surprise, I am writing you an email.

I NEED HELP AND SOON, BEFORE I STARVE TO DEATH !!!!

I am guessing that you are wondering how come I’m doing this — it’s just because I am locked into my computer room and cannot get out. I was trying to put a door knob on the door and got started, but the thing went completely closed as I was trying to see if it was going to fit — and now here I am having to stoop so low as to write an email to you to see if you could call someone to come get me out. My phones, of course, are all in the other room. I thought that perhaps you could call Beverly and have her and Howie come over and get me out. If you happen to have Tami’s number then call her.

Anyhow, can you get me out of here. I guess I’ll just play games on the computer until someone lets me out of here. Send me an email to let me know you are doing this for me.

Mom, Dad and Facebook: A Dangerous Combo

Mom: How do I unfriend on Facebook?

Me: What, you only have like 8 friends, who do you want to get rid of.

Mom: That’s really none of your business, and I have 40 friends thank you very much.

Me: That’s right, Dad has 8 heheh

Mom: Not for long!

Sometimes a Snake is Just a Snake

Backstory: My mom was a kindergarten teacher in a bad part of town.

Mom: It was a rough neighborhood. The kind of place where the men would come to the playground and let their snakes out of their bags.

Me: Ew! Mom that’s so gross.

Mom: I know. I hate snakes.

Me: Wait, that was a euphemism for something right?

Mom: No! They had real snakes! We had to go check the playground before recess to make sure they weren’t slithering around by the swings or anything.

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