When Facebook Brings Up the Past

Facebook knows too much.

I got on this morning to aid in my procrastination, and right at the top of my newsfeed was a notification, “Friends on Facebook for 7 Years.” And who was the friend in question? My mother-in-law.

Normally I shrug at Facebook’s awkward reminders, but then I realized how funny the story of our Facebook friendship is, and I had to click the “share” button.

This is the photo Facebook shared with me, which is from the night we announced my pregnancy.

This is the photo Facebook shared with me, which is from the night we announced my pregnancy.

I had just met her the night before. She remembered me from the days her kids and I went to elementary school together, but I only had a vague memory of her. She was sitting at the welcome table at my friend’s youth group, and we talked when I came in. She asked how I was doing, asked how my family was, and told me where to go since I was half an hour late. During free-time that night, Garth asked his mom if he could stay later, and when his ride left, he asked me to give him a ride home.

But he wasn’t the only sneaky one in his family.

It was my senior year of high school, and I spent half my day at the community college as a PSEO student. I had some time between classes, so I went to the computer lab to do some work and browse Facebook, where I had a friend request — Garth’s mom.

I panicked a little. I was confused. Moms have Facebook? What does she want with me? Is it because I went to youth group? Is it because I talked to her son? We only knew each other for two weeks — would she tell me to leave him alone, not to talk to him anymore?

I clicked “accept.” A message appeared.

It was her.

She asked what I was doing that weekend (nothing), and asked if I would like to come play Apples to Apples with her eleven-year-old daughter, “because they always needed another player.”

Sure, I thought, why not.

She invited me for dinner, to which I offered to bring dessert.

Oh, and then she told me she was picking up her oldest from the airport that day. He was just coming home from a six-month mission trip with Youth with a Mission. And Saturday was his birthday.

Too late to back out now.

When I saw Garth at lunch that afternoon, I asked him what he was doing that weekend. He clearly had no idea that his mom had invited me over, so I told him. I honestly couldn’t tell if he liked the idea, or if he was going to go home and tell his mom to never do it again.

Saturday came and I was so nervous as I rang the doorbell. Dinner went well, even though I immediately broke the lid to their water pitcher. By the end of the night his sister sat next to me every chance she got, and instead of feeling weird about it, I was so comfortable and so glad their mom invited me over.

Thinking back, I still can’t believe I agreed to go over for dinner without talking to Garth first. I figured she must have talked to him about it and that was why she invited me. When I found out I was wrong, I felt humiliated.

I must have liked Garth a lot more than I thought I did at the time. Why else would a girl go to “just a friend’s” house at his mother’s invitation?

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