Social media has made the world the size of a peanut. Sometimes this is fantastic. Sometimes it's not.
For instance, we really don't need to know what the inside of your bathroom looks like. I'm talking to you, serial selfie-ers. Really. STAHP.
And we don't need to know that you didn't pay attention in geography because you were busy #HASHTAGGINGALLTHETHINGS ...
Or that your sister has bladder control issues ...
Or that you are struggling with schizophrenia ...
I inadvertently started a little rumor I'm having twins by sharing this:
Followed by this status update:
By that I meant Gracie is walking (YIKESAPALOOZA!) and I have absolutely no idea how I'm supposed to chase after two of them while carting around a pregnant belly the size of the Blarney stone.
But that's a worry for another day. Like tomorrow. And the next day. And maybe the day after that.
At first, I couldn't figure out why everyone was asking me about twins. I was all, "Geez, you guys. I'm not THAT big."
Okay, I am. But still.
And then I was like, waaiiiitasecond ...
Whoops. My bad.
Perhaps I should leave the actual words to more cognitively present human beings.
I'll stick to duck faces and pictures of my dinner (which, in case you're wondering, consisted of Twinkies and ... Twinkies. Don't judge me. I'm making up for lost time).
Sorry, you guys!