MILF

Do you know what MILF means?

I didn't, until a couple of months ago. It's pretty rude, so I'm not enlightening you here, and if you're unaware of what it
stands for, you will have to miss this blog out because it will mean nothing to you.

But aaaaaaaaaggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! I mean OMG, being up-to-date with the parlance of teenagers.

I really try, quite hard, to avoid being an embarrassing mother. Except for the day I kissed my head boy son on the
cheek in front of his entire school when I was giving out the swimming prizes, and he'd won the cup for Fastest U13 Freestyle. That was on purpose and the rest of the school and I thought it was considerably funnier than he did.

But this time, oh no.

I was practising using Facebook. I originally signed up to it in order to check up on what my children were getting up to - which I have manifestly failed to do because I couldn't get a handle on how to work it.

So being ill, I now have time to experiment. I'm a bit in the dark as to how to find would-be 'Friends' but somehow I manage to manouevre myself onto Revered Son's site. I send him a little message. I wrote the first thing that came into my head. It was a play on his name, putting the 'W' upside down.

I didn't know that there was a difference between sending messages and 'posts'.

Underneath a general clarion call from his old sciencemaster to everyone he knows, encouraging them to come and watch rugby, was posted what I thought was my private and thoroughly witty observation about his name. And possibly even worse, it was signed off 'Love from Mummy'.

I have since made a genuinely contrite apology, and it would appear that Revered Son has now wiped away my first ever 'Post'. I expect it's been left  lying in an etherial bin called 'garbage'.