Ahh, Daddy, Not You Too

I feel terrible for my father.

See, my dad is on Facebook.

This is my own stupid fault. I was home one weekend, talking about our cousins, explaining to my mom and dad how we all came to be back in touch (my extended family is not what anyone would describe as close). They were both intrigued by the social networking site I kept referring to and both wanted to know more. I showed them Facebook and my dad asked how he could join (and what it would cost).

I signed him up, set-up his profile and not since I showed him how to text had I ever seen him so happy.

My mom was relieved, as it would give him something to do on the computer other than look at their dwindling stock portfolio.

I was apprehensive. I received a lot of flack from Ivan and Lana after teaching “crazy-fingers” how to text. I worried they would be equally as annoyed with me about this invasion.

But nothing prepared me for what I fear my dad is now doing on Facebook.

Yesterday, as I sat blissfully staring at the new Starbucks’ barista who isn’t as cute as Zac but is so funny that I can’t help but love him, when my text alert went off.

I expected it to be the Republican, but it was my dad.

“Igor who?”

See, earlier I sent my dad a text letting him know that I had invited my cousin Igor to join our family’s group on Facebook. Something he had asked me (and Lana and Ivan) to do the day before.

So I responded, your nephew Igor.

“Oh.” I could almost hear his sigh across the more than 50 miles that separated us. “I thought maybe it was a rower friend of yours.”

Daddy, I responded, why would I invite a rower friend of mine into our family’s group?

“I thought maybe it was a surprise.”

I rolled my eyes. This is the sort of crap I expect from my mom. She has been pushing marriage on me since I was 17. But my dad? He sends me texts about stupid trades the Eagles make and how he is doing on the erg. When my mother would give me stupid relationship books for Christmas, I would look at my dad and he would throw his arms up and exclaim “Oh, why did you give her that? I told you not to.”

I am daddy’s little girl for Christ's sake. He is suppose to be content being the only man in my life.

But it seems that is no longer the case. Instead he is anxiously waiting for me to add a new member to our family’s network.

And that is when the image of my father, in front of his laptop, scanning all my male friends, looking for Igor and wondering what he would be like for a son-in-law settled into my brain and a tear almost welled up in my eye.

I wondered if, every time his home page announced I made a new male friend, he immediately jumped to that profile to ascertain if this could be his princess’s Mr. Right. Did he stalk all my guy friend’s profiles? Had he already weeded out the the married ones? Oh my god, did he stalked CK’s profile. See, CK and I went to school together, so my dad knew CK and CK’s dad from four years of regattas. Was CK’s profile public? Did my dad know he was single and thus every night before he went to bed, did my dad pray that CK and I would be together forever the way I would if I believed in a god? Would he friend CK and start suggesting he take his daughter out on a date.

Why? Why did I introduce my dad to Facebook?