What To Do If Your Husband Joins Facebook

My husband is all over my arse lately and not in the "feed my beaver" type of way if you catch my drift. That would be a happy thing. No, this way is more in the "I've eyes in the back of my head and even though I'm over 600 kms away, I want to know your every move because I miss you sooooo much" type of way.

Which is definitely more annoying. Er, I mean, thoughtful and romantic. Oh, who am I kidding? Definitely annoying.

You see, I've been online for four and a half years now and I've never had his prying blue eyes reading over my shoulder. It's worked out well for the two of us, and likely saved our marriage on more than one occasion. I can tweet, facebook and blog knowing my husband could for the most part, care less about what I was doing.

As long as I'm not posing naked for the ole interwebs, he's happy in his ignorance.

(Which should make telling him that I am posing naked for a bloggers calendar all that much more interesting. Heh. I'm doing it for charity honey. Really.)

It's not like my husband never had any interest in my online life. He's a curious dude. He has a (basically defunct) twitter account that he uses to occasionally pop in and check on my profile. He has been known to read a blog post. Heck, every now and then when I'm on television he'll even watch it or dvr it so he can watch it later.

But he's left Facebook alone, emphatically stating that all things FB are evil and a tool of the devil. He was morally opposed to opening his own account and heaven help me if I so much as mentioned his real name online.

Then his children hopped online under my heavy-handed supervision and now suddenly, things have changed.

I opened my email a few nights ago and there sitting in my inbox was a friendship request from Facebook. From my husband.

I about dropped dead of shock.

So I did the only thing I could think of. I called him.

"I got a really weird email today, Boo," I blurted out as soon as he answered his cell.

"Ya? Someone asked if you wanted a Russian bride? Because I'm okay with that. I'd prefer you get yourself a tall buxom redhead, but that may be too specific for one of those mail-order-bride sites. Just make sure whoever she is, she has all her teeth and doesn't hog the bed."

"Very funny. Just how do you know how specific one of those mail-order-bride sites may be? Spend some time window shopping have we?"

"Nah. I just know from what other people tell me. I plead the fifth. Hey look over there! Is that a bear?"

"Like you could handle two wives anyway. But it's nice you have a vivid imagination."

"Didn't you call me to tell me about your weird email?"

"Oh ya! My email. Hey, have you been online lately?"

"Ya, a little here and there. Why?"

"Weird. I thought someone may have stolen your computer and impersonated you online. I got a friend request from Facebook. From YOU. I know that can't be right."

"Nope, it's right. I broke down and joined finally."

"WHY?? I thought you said Facebook was a tool of the devil, a malignant time suck on the butt of humanity, a waste of -"

Laughing, Boo interrupted my rant. "It still is all of those things, but I want to keep a closer eye on the kids while I'm gone."

"Oh." Then I bristled. "Why? Are my two eyes not enough? I practically live online. I watch them like the kittens eye our aquarium. Continuously and nonstop. Don't you trust me? I've been doing this parenting gig solo for almost five years now, Bub, and I haven't -"

"Woah there, cowgirl. Simmer down. That's not what I meant."

"Oh. Sorry. I was just starting to enjoy that rant though."

"I could tell. No, I joined because the kids mentioned a game they like to play on there so I thought I'd check it out. It's kind of a cool game after all. Now I can spend some time with the kids online, while I'm away from home."


"I thought you'd be happy about this. I joined the dark side. I'm engaging with our kids even when I'm not home. It's a win-win I thought."



"No, no. It's a good thing. A great thing. You are a fantastic dad. The kids will be thrilled."

"I hear a 'but' in there."

"It's just, ack, this is going to sound bad."

"Spit it out."

"It's just, this is my world. It was bad enough I had to rearrange everything when your kids joined Facebook. I cleaned out my friends, tightened up the privacy. I liked it when it was all mine. When I didn't have to share."

"Why, so you could flirt with all your internet boyfriends in peace?"

"EXACTLY. Now I won't be able to post those nude pictures I took of myself anymore."

"Very funny. You post those pics even though your kids are on your account?"

"Hey, they are proud their mom is an internet porn star."

"Very funny."

"Thank you. I try."

"Well, I'm on, and there is no going back now. I already have seven friends."

"Already? Sheesh. You move fast."

"I've never heard you complain about that before, darling," he drawled. I could just picture him waggling his eyebrows and leering as he said it.

"Well, I'm not going to friend you right away. I don't think I'm ready for Facebook marriage just yet. This is just moving too quickly for me."

"Oh, give me a break." Now I could picture him rolling his eyes at me in annoyance. Thirteen years of marriage and all.

"I kinda like people thinking you are Mr. Redneck Mommy. Or Boo Miller. Now people will know you are own man. It doesn't jive with the reality I've set up in my head."

"You are nuts."

"You knew that about me before you married me. In fact, I recall people warning you about that very fact before you forgot to buy condoms all those years ago."

"Remind me again why I love you?"

"I'm bendy."


Our conversation dawdled on after that, but about more pressing matters like how my pool is leaking, Jumby's wheelchair is still broken and how our deep freezer is still unusable. You know, typical married stuff that made both of us yawn and get off the phone as fast as we could.

Later that night, I logged onto Facebook just to check out his account.

Yep. There he was. Mr. I-have-a-real-name-and-it's-not-the-one-my-wife-uses-because-she-refuses-to-change-her-name in all his Facebook glory, but without a profile picture because he is apparently making one last bastion of rebellion about giving away all his privacy.

I shut the computer off without friending him. It's still pending in my inbox, a reminder that Facebook truly is the devil's playground.

*So, do I or don't I? I'm fairly convinced that I'm the world's worst wife if I don't, yet I'm also equally convinced that this is a bad idea. Help?*