I’m going to free you of a heavy, heavy burden with this article. You can call me martyr from here on; I’m going to sacrifice myself for your sake. Consequences might be tough: coal for Christmas and things like that. But someone has to say it; so, first of all, I need to explain it. Mom, (or better ama, since I am from the north of Spain) this is not meant to you. I love you, so don’t get mad at me. I don’t want to eat lentils for a whole week.

As I was saying, someone has to say things loud and clear. That’s enough. The social order is being perverted to such an extent we simply cannot turn our faces and pretend nothing is happening. Dear parents, dads, mums, aunties from Cuenca, it is time to tell you that you really need to quit the social networks. It’s not your element. You are as foreigners there as a penguin in the middle of the Sahara. No.

What are these 238 likes to everything your children do? Are you going nuts? Everything looks so cute, so really tender, until your friends come out with comments like this: “your mom liked my profile pic”. And you can start growing desperate, because as the new Rosemary Altea, you can perfectly picture to yourselves what’s coming next. You have this occult follower, hidden in the shadow, with his extraordinary amount of 12 friends (this is one of the characteristics of the social network parent, his practically inactive profile) which means his newsfeed feeds on only one thing: you. What you do. What you comment. Just as though they went out with you, like “friends”. This public spy. Your worst nightmare. Your mother/father.

Or your auntie from Albacete. It’s like giving a Swiss knife to a cat; you know, because you know it from the very beginning that it’s going to end up in a disaster. Especially during family meals, when your deeds will come boldly to public knowledge. “I saw you in a pic with those dick-nosed glasses”. “Thank you, aunt Maricarmen”. Murderous look by your father. Silence. Another unforgettable moment is when any of your friends tags you, whatever it is. It might be a photo, the poster of an event, or a llama with sexy eyes. Anything. And three milliseconds later, a family member, whoever he or she is, adds a comment like this “you are so adorable, kisses, see you on the 25th at Granny’s place”. Facepalm, you can’t help it but facepalm yourself really hard. Even more if your friends don’t let escape such a great opportunity to make fun of you. And so we have come to the climax of the nonsense a social network parent can do: sharing that pic. Without saying anything, not even a title or something that motivates the act. There it is, in silence, the pic with your friend, whom she doesn’t know, in her diary.

Your mother will show you love. Your father will be more disquieting. He will feel like adding all of your friends he might remotely have heard of. You’ll start wishing they taught you at university how to hack computers or smartphones (here are the culprits, damned accessible technology) so you could enter their profiles and cancel them at once. Finally. But they’ll come back. Because someone uploaded the photos of your cousin’s wedding party and they have to see them.

Dear parents, we love you, and we know you love us back too, but it’s time to tell you: just quit the social networks. Except for a few exceptions, it’s not your thing. And it’s really not a big deal, it’ just a fact, please accept it. We will never remember when the guarantee of the microwave oven expires, so you will never understand the complex functioning of Facebook.

So what’s for dinner? Oh, right… Lentils.

Text: Ane Guerra