Mr. Mom, aka the Cluemaster.

Dear friends,

We spent Thursday night at Buffalo Wild Wings, Kate’s favorite restaurant. It is affectionately known as B-Dubs by my children. (For those of you as lost as Mr. Mom, Dub is short for W. Buffalo Wild Wings = BWW = B-Dubs.)

At Kate’s request, we have been planning this birthday outing for a couple of weeks. Only every time Mr. Mom talked about it, he called it BFFs.

If you’re anyone reading this post beside Mr. Mom, you know BFF stands for Best Friend Forever.  Not the same thing (except in Kate’s case, it might actually be fair to say B-Dubs is her BFF).

Anyway, it has become increasingly clear Mr. Mom cannot keep up with the rest of the family. We learned during after-dinner conversation he does not know what a hashtag is. #clueless

He doesn’t Tweet, either, which explains his hashtag problem. And it’s too bad, really, because K8 gave him a S/O today on Twitter for being an especially considerate father and he didn’t even realize it.

We try to talk slow around him and refrain from rolling our eyes, but it’s getting increasingly difficult. #pullovergramps

I feel bad poking fun at him in this way since he does so many things well, like fix our cars #acemechanic and clean our clothes #laundryslave. But there are so few things in life for which I can claim superiority over him that I simply must leverage his appalling lack of new media awareness.

With gratitude {for friends who keep me in the know and, therefore, one step ahead of the old man},

Joan, who served a short stint as a radio announcer in college and learned to properly enunciate W (double-U, not dub-yuh) and, therefore, cringed during the entire second Bush administration

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Comments

  1. Caution! Is Mr. Mom’s cluelessness purposeful? Because for you all to tease him for not knowing (or potentially caring) as he chooses to remain above the social media right-this-minuteness trendiness storm might actually turn out to be, like, totally uncool of you guys. #ironic

  2. Ahhhhhh, the wise Deb once again nails it.

    Yes, Mr. Mom’s use of the wrong words is intentional. It’s a longstanding joke in our family and represents Mr. Mom’s homage to a clueless teacher he had long ago. Combine that with Mr. Mom’s chronic inability to recall names and places, and one is never sure when he’s talking with a straight face and when he’s not.

    But we still enjoy teasing him unmercifully for it because, you know, he’s the dad. The dad is always the butt of all family jokes.

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