Being an adult requires that you stop doing certain practices from your childhood. College requires you to be dependent, so waiting half a semester to bring your laundry home for your mom to wash isn’t going to cut it. The silver lining is we can now vote and (look old enough to) buy alcohol, but it still sucks that we’re too grown up for our moms to make our ponytails, we’re too old to order off the vastly less expensive kid’s menu, and we have too much homework for 9 o’clock to be our bedtime. However, there are the childish habits that we stopped doing sometime during puberty that we shouldn’t have discontinued. We’re not girls, but we’re not yet women, so go crazy with the nail art before you’re really a grown up.

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Scarred. For. Life.

Our mothers may not always have the soundest judgment in situations regarding appropriate behavior, like when they think chain e-mail  jokes are actually funny and they think flipping through family photo albums with your friends is an enjoyable activity for all.

Note: they’re not.
Seriously.

Poor Lourdes must have a much longer list of Momma Madonna’s to-do taboos, one that must surely include posing for Dolce & Gabbana with her fifty-two year-old cleavage as the focal point.

Look Madge: the world knows you’re a celebrity mom with a young boyfriend and a fantastically fit body, but we really do not need to see it on large-scale prints in department stores and giant billboards in Times Square! Madonna/Madge/Esther/MILF-used-to-be, you are no longer a Material Girl who is Like A Virgin, so please stop pretending. If not for me and my night tremors then, please, do it for Lourdes! Break that contract if D&G won’t provide you with a sweater on set, and give the Photoshop guy (who’s clearly been working overtime) a break!

It’s not like you need the money, Margie. And isn’t the mental health of your daughter worth more than a pile of hundos anyway?

Ironically, you say Lourdes is growing up too fast. I don’t know what kind of clock you keep on your nightstand, woman, but time eventually passes and people get older. And you’re one of those people. There’s a gate that closes on certain behaviors once you’re over the hump (hence why my mother doesn’t do keg stands anymore….thank god), and no amount of yoga or young model boyfriends or design collaborations with your fourteen-year-old daughter will alter the date on your birth certificate.

The weather in Cougartown is clearly not that hot, so let’s get you some age-appropriate outfits (that cover those arms!) and spare poor Lourdes a life of shame and humiliation.

It’s not that I don’t want to see what my wonderful leader is up to, it’s more like I don’t think I need to see it through Facebook. I would love to visit her at her nursing home and hear all about her there.

And even though everyone is allowed to have a Facebook nowadays doesn’t mean they should have them. I’m allowed to buy Depends, but it doesn’t mean that I am going to start wearing them. I work very hard at participating in age appropriate things and I wish everyone else would follow my lead.

No matter who the over-aged friender is, I’ve learned they all share three traits in common.

1. Over-usage of applications

Immediately after accepting their friend request (and putting them on the most limited profile possible) they start throwing vampires, sending goblins, and flinging hug requests. I’m forced to spend more time blocking applications than stalking people’s wall-to-walls. And it seems that for every application I block, five more spring up in its place. Yesterday I blocked the hug-me application request and today I woke up with 14 new requests from the hugger application, huggiest application, huggable application, and hug thrower application. I don’t even know what hug-throwing could possibly mean but I’m pretty sure it’s illegal in at least 34 states.

2. Unnecessary Friend Details

Literally seconds after I’m friended by the undesirables they send the most specific friend details. “I babysat you in 1989 and I changed your diaper 3 times!” Or, “I was the 2nd grade chorus teacher that made you lipsync during the annual Holiday concert.” I used to think they were sending these uber-detailed friend requests to be funny; now I just assume that they send them to remind themselves on a daily basis who I am. I guess the details are the Ginko Biloba pills of Facebook. Either way I never accept them. I like to hope it makes their day a little more eventful since they have to remember who I am every single time they log on.

3. Baby Albums

If you are old enough to be putting albums of your children on Facebook, you don’t belong on Facebook. End of story. Shouldn’t these parents be doing something with their kids instead of posting their daily baths on Facebook (yep, I’ve seen a baby-bath time album…and now I feel like I should be on To Catch a Predator). Not only do they have baby albums, but they sometimes make their actual profile picture a photo of their kid. Every time that happens I freak out because there is always that split second when I’m like, when did I friend a baby?

I miss the days when Facebook was only for the young, fun and college educated. What happened to that? Get off Facebook, oldies!b