Dad calls me out of the blue and says, “I’m on your facebook and I tried clicking on this thing that says ‘I am shattered..winter had been more beautiful than any summer…’ and it doesn’t show any more!” I burst out laughing, “That’s my status,” I say.

“And this thing about being attacked by a giant squirrel? Where is the rest of that!” he demands.

“That was my status too. It’s not a story.” I inform him.

By this time I’m roaring with laughter and dad is completely bewildered, “so a status is what you were thinking at the time?” he asks. “Yeah!” I exclaim. “Well it doesn’t make any sense!” he protests. “It doesn’t have to. It can be anything,” I explain, “Are you on mom’s facebook?” I ask, knowing he is, as he doesn’t have one of his own. “Yeah and I told her you wrote another story about her,” he pauses, sucking in his breath, “She’s not too happy about that.” I have no idea why he’s stalking me on facebook, but I briefly consider adding viewing limitations to my mother’s account.

Learning what a status is...