Spit up and the Suburbs

After returning from the deeply humbling experience that was the back-to-school night, with Trish’s cronies ruling the event as if they were in charge of the entire school, Alyssa was stunned to find that all was quiet in the Keadon household. The kids were asleep—yes, all five of them; a true miracle. Will was walking the dogs. It was a rare moment for Alyssa to be by herself, and the perfect chance to poke around a bit and see if the crazy plot starting to hatch in her head was more than just some delusional revenge fantasy or well worth her time and effort. 

She poured herself a mini-glass of Sauvignon Blanc, sat down at her computer at the breakfast bar in the darkness of the uncharacteristically-quiet kitchen, and went on Facebook, navigating to the Almería Moms community page, which she was 100 percent positive was the most passive aggressive corner of the entire worldwide internet. 

An obnoxious post “asking for a friend” about a four-bedroom home under a million dollars that might be coming on the market soon temporarily distracted her. Alyssa took a loooong sip of wine. Maybe she’d need to refill her glass.

In any case, she weeded through several posts in which parents complained about teens driving too fast (“If this was my son…”). Then there was the gem from a mom sharing her high schooler’s mental health diagnosis with the neighborhood, and casually asking what meds other teens were on. Um, overshare and completely violate your minor’s privacy much? Of course, the mom was boldly supported by commenters who felt this was a brave, critical post, and who had no problem opening up about their own kids’ prescriptions and medical histories.

Shaking off her own inner alarm bells about the future of kids brought up by attention-seeking, social media addicted parents with no filter, Alyssa continued doom scrolling through endless posts on the Almería Moms Facebook page that included, but were not limited to, a heated debate over whether a local ballet studio was up to snuff (some very upset moms clearly needed a cold shower and/or a glass/bottle of wine after falling out on that topic). 

Then, there was the troublingly out-of-touch post that read, “Moms, hubby bought me makeup from Saks Fifth Ave. that came with so many samples. Anyone have a connection at a homeless shelter where I can donate?” Because we all know that people who don’t have a home rank primer and highlighter at the top of their wish lists.

Sure, she wanted to cry, but she’d gotten her answer. Alyssa was more than sure she had a bone to pick with enough people in the community to move forward with her plan to essentially dismantle the entire PMS Club.