The Day My Dad Got a Facebook

Yesterday morning, I helped my dad set up a Facebook.

This morning, he asked me how to delete it.

Dad got on the boat a little later than most of his friends -- pretty much all his fellow pastors and youth ministers have been on it for months. It was only recently that he felt like he was missing out on all the wonders of the digital age, and literally put it on my to-do list to set up his account.

All was well and good -- I set dad up and we added some contacts from his e-mail list. I added some pictures of him and the family in an album called "The Best of 2008." I even listed his favorite books (The Purpose Driven Life) and movies (Facing the Giants, The Passion of the Christ). Within minutes, he'd reconnected with an old youth pastor and some folks he hadn't spoken to in over a year.

Just as my dad was learning the wonders of tagging photos and how to work the "wall," my mom entered the picture -- seething mad. Over the past 24 hours, she's railed about the following:

1. Facebook's not secure -- now your business is going to be all over the internet!

2. What are you trying to do? Be in junior high again?

3. Why did you put that ugly picture of me on there?!

4. You stayed up till midnight checking your Facebook! (he corrected her; it was only 11:45.

5. Who are all these women writing "Happy New Year" on your wall?!

My brothers and I suspect she really just wants her own profile, but in the mean time, the technology gap that leaves my mom in the dark about Facebook is also putting my dad in the doghouse.

So if you happened to add him as a friend, don't be surprised if he suddenly disappears off the face of the cyber earth tomorrow. At least for now, parents -- especially mine -- and Facebook don't mix.