My Mom: "I knew you were a good writer way back when you wrote that story in the fourth grade about the talking school desks! And I so love that Toaster thing you wrote for us!"
Me: (thinking oh hell yeah, that desk story WAS way cool! and how does she remember something that old? and my mom is great for my ego when I let her be!) It's so out of the blue. If I didn't blog, I wouldn't have this opportunity.
My Mom: Well I don't understand what a blog is or why you would have one. Hal tried to explain it but I didn't get it.
Me: (thinking there is no way in hell I can explain to her why I do this, which is why I've not mentioned it to her before) It's like an on-line journal, Mom. I'm practicing writing. It's fun and interesting. I've also gotten to know some terrific people.
My Mom: I just don't understand why you'd want to put anything personal like that on the internet. If you want to write, I'll buy you a notebook, okay?
The conversation then switched to the rods in her toes and how the doctor told her not to soak her feet any more.
Now my mom "gets" a lot of things. She's a fabulous mom in so many ways. But she doesn't get the "why" of writing. Or the "why" of blogging. At least not my "why." Not yet anyway. Truthfully, I'm thankful she wasn't more curious about this place. I love my mom, but she hates it when I cuss. She might not like it here much.
I wonder what percentage of bloggers have mothers who read their blogs?