I bet when all my friends’ babies grow up they’re gonna be super annoyed by the public record of their lives on Facebook and instagram. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore most of your little nuggets and just block the rest, but there’s something truly endearing about my parents recalling different versions of the story of when one of their toddler daughters saw a man in a speedo for the first time and shouted “mom, why does he have a potato in his pants?!” Growing up with Facebook, they would’ve tagged the guilty daughter and thrown in a #bananahammock. Popular opinion is that I said it, but at least one of my parents thinks it was my older sister.

Thanks to not-so-modern technology, we’ll just have to keep guessing every time we tell the story, unlike some of your children, who will know exactly when they took their first poop, which breast pump you used for minimal spillage, and how many of your friends sent virtual condolences when they came down with foot and mouth disease.



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