During our last episode of F’ed Up Fantasy Family, I reported the gift of an iPad to my aging parents. They wanted access to FaceTime in a purported bid to follow new-ish extended family members.

I was convinced they would use FaceTime while naked.

I pondered the brain-bleaching consequences of Naked FaceTime With Aging Parents. For hours. And days. Experts claim one can banish worry by imagining the worst possible thing that can happen.


I haven’t slept since I gave my parents an iPad. Thanks to you, Dear Reader, I’ve imagined every conceivable scenario of shriveled, wrinkled, toilet-ridden, butt-dialing parental FaceTime nakedness. I had to do something to relieve the pressure, to rid myself of shrieking every time my iPhone/iPad/MacBookAir brayed another FaceTime request.

I decided to be the first Naked FaceTimer.
I would beat them at their own game.

If I called my parents from the bathtub, surely they would see how ridiculous I looked, and they wouldn’t try to copy me.

Here I am, FaceTiming my mother from the sanctuary of my guest bathroom.

naked facetime

(I’m the naked one in the upper right-hand corner, not the naked one taking up most of the screen.)


I guess she showed me.


Read What Happened When I Gave My Parents an iPad HERE.


My father is almost eighty-one. My mother is……….well, she’ll kill me if I type a number over fifty. Her birthday was around Father’s Day. They ganged up on us with one request:

an iPad mini.

“Because I want to be able to FaceTime your cousin Lori and see her baby. And your daddy wants to video call you ten times a day.”


I’m not sure I want video calls from either parent. I’ve been hearing blush-worthy tales of their escapades since my brother moved in with them.

My brother: “Can I put a lock on my bedroom door?”

My mother: “Why ever would you want to do that?”

My brother: “Because if Dad barges in butt-nekkid one more time and stands there and talks to me while he scratches himself, I’m gonna lose it.”

Apparently, my parents are nudists at home.


Let’s take bets, Dear Reader. How will my parents first experience Naked FaceTime? Will Mom call my husband while she’s in the bathtub, thinking she’s calling one of her sisters? (That’s what she’ll claim as she flashes her boobs and laughs. Just wait.)

Or will Dad give me a wiener shot as he pees in the backyard? I mean KILLS TERMITES. Because OF COURSE everyone knows urine kills termites.


If I explain what’s captured and recorded online these days, it won’t matter. Mom won her gym’s monthly weight lifting title in her age bracket. She WANTS everybody at the NSA to see how hot she is.

Dad still doesn’t understand how video travels the internet, but that won’t stop his tingly fingers from pressing the green-and-white button a hundred times a day. He thinks everyone should witness his epic bowel movements.

What do you think, Dear Reader?

Best answer wins a
FaceTime call from the
parent of your choice.

******Clothing is their choice.*******

from gocomics.com

Growing up in South Carolina, I probably saw snow a handful of times in my formative years, always a wet, slushy mess. On my fourteenth birthday, it snowed several inches. I remember getting out and playing in it with my then-boyfriend. Because it was little more than barely frozen water, our regular clothes were soaked within minutes, causing us to run back inside to warm up. Investing in snow gear for the once-every-few-years white blanket that was usually gone by morning was preposterous. This IS the South.

It’s hard to imagine it, but think – THINK – about July. You know July. You were just complaining about its blistering heat and oppressive humidity a few short months ago. Especially if you live anywhere near me.

We didn’t have central air conditioning in my house growing up. The whole place was cooled by a window air conditioning unit in my brother’s bedroom. It blasted down the hallway, the air more warm than cold by the time it hit the kitchen at the opposite end of the house. To deal with the heat, I let ice cubes melt in my mouth and did as little as possible, reading being the coolest activity I could find.

One white-hot summer day, my Mom called me to come outside. She was in the storage room, and I could hear her yelling through the thin kitchen wall. Because the washer and dryer were out there, I thought she wanted me to come and help her bring the clothes inside.

After pretending I didn’t hear her for at least five minutes, I finally dragged my lazy behind off the sofa and went out there, my bare feet sizzling like fresh bacon on the overheated concrete carport. Whining and complaining with my most diva-like airs, I came into the storage room…………..and was hit squarely in the face with a frozen snowball.

My Mom scraped up some of the last snow we had and saved it in the outdoor freezer. She probably planned that ambush for months and months, and I’m certain that I was always her intended target. I never knew she had snow in there, even though I visited that freezer quite regularly. It was the same one that housed my poor dead pet cow Boo’s pieces and parts, after all.

So, if it happens to snow where you are today, scoop some up and save it. It will be a welcome treat come July.