Master of the Email Forward

One of my own mother’s most endearing qualities, and she’s got a million of them, is her love of the email forward.  She probably enjoys them even more than I hate them, if that’s possible.

Most of her forwards are ones that have been making the internet rounds for many years, but they’re new to her, even if she’s forwarded them to me before.

She receives them mostly from her Baptist friends in the Midwest. Therefore, the themes are usually conservatively tinged to say the least, and could probably be used to fan the flames of generational warfare. (i.e., her generation loves America and mine, a bunch of crazy, spoiled, hippies, does not.)

I am always reminding my mother that I am many decades past eligibility for the active military service that might prove my dedication to God and my country, but she thinks I’m 17 forever.

She is also fond of those forwards that are most definitely Urban Legends, especially the ones that warn of potential peril from things like flashing headlights or men who suddenly appear by your car when you’re pumping gas.

And she enjoys passing along those giant scrolls of strange and adorable animal and baby pictures. She says she’s forwarding them for the grandkids, but if I manage to endure, they’re likely to end with some joke on Nancy Pelosi or attack on liberal politics, thinking, and behavior in general. I’m not sure my kids get it.

Topping her email forward favs list are ones that contain information about celebrities and their children. At the risk of repeating myself again, I am her only child, and that means my children are her only grandchildren. Yet she really would prefer emailing about famous people’s kids and getting my input, or my goat.

Me and mine will never be able to compete with pictures of kittens being nursed by horses, unless maybe if we accidentally make it to the ranks of the Officially Recognized as Special (ORS).

Or I join the National Guard.