Amended Retirement Plans

Because we are cultured and high-brow, those of us who live or have lived at the House on the Corner have been known to watch an occasional game show. Jeopardy, of course, and we are insufferable when we get an answer the contestants miss. Wheel of Fortune because I would DOMINATE if I ever got on this show and a girl can always dream of half cars and prize puzzles. The Price Is Right because we love the yodeling mountain climber. And Family Feud.

Oh, Family Feud.  You sleazy, worthless show where the answer is usually some variation of "make love" or the name of a private body part. How many hours have I spent with my darling offspring, hooting at contestants who are sure that Chicago is a state?

Over the Christmas break we happened to be watching the show when one Boy looked at another and said, "Hey, there are four of us and with Lovely Girl, we could be a team."

Well.

That started the ball rolling and before the current sleazy host could call out "SHOW ME NUMBER FIVE!" they were all on their computers to see what it would take to become a Family Feud family. (Oddly, they did not ask Husband or me to be part of the team.)

All of this is background to the actual story I wanted to tell today.

In the past couple of months I have been noticing that Facebook is targeting me with more and more ads. For some reason most of them are for retirement villages, weight loss, or clutter control, which makes me think Facebook might be reading messages to me from my friends, but I digress again. One of the ads that seemed to be popping up with astonishing frequency was for Family Feud.

"Oh, stupid FF," I would think. "I don't care to name something that married people might have that single people do not, and I don't even want to think about something a man might do in the bathtub that would make you think he’s really immature."*

And that was when I realized that my computer had been one of those grabbed by a Boy researching the how-to-get-on-the-show issue. And that said Boy had used my Facebook account to "like" Family Feud. While I didn't want accuse anyone of this without proof, I was sure enough that said Boy's name rhymed with ToySlumberNun that I informed his brothers of this. "Off with his head!"

Last night I got a call from Boy#3, and he was giggling. 

"I hear you think One liked Family Feud on your Facebook, but it was me. Your account was already open and I figured 'why not?'" 

Confession is good for the soul, son, but you might have wanted to keep this transgression quiet. You know that plan your father and I have to split our retirement time between you Boys? You just bought yourself an extra three months because I had to see "Name something a marriage counselor might advise a couple to do more often..." before I hit the un-like button. 

You'll love having us around. 


*All of the examples used in today's post are ACTUAL QUESTIONS from Family Feud. And now I need to go wash my brain.