For dearest mother

I will do anything to help my mum, including joining Farmville on Facebook

Obedient and loving daughter Gabey Goh will do anything to keep her mother happy on Facebook.

IHAD a mild panic attack a few weeks back when my mother innocently asked me: “Ah Bee… What is this Twitter thing ah?”

It wasn’t because I had to explain to her what it was (“Hah… so it’s like Facebook?” “Not exactly Ma.”) or that I had to say no to the things she thought it could do (“No, Ma. You can’t play games. It’s text and links to stories, photos or videos.”).

After listening to my explanation, she felt it too complicated and limiting, and thus abandoned plans to jump into a world filled with hashtags and pithy 140 character rants or updates.

“Aiyah, cannot play games ah? Never mind, I will just stick with Facebook.”

I confess. I exhaled an internal sigh of relief, as the reason for the mild panic attack was due to the flashback it sparked to a time not too long ago — when my mother first discovered Facebook.

Urged by friends, she created an account. Stressed over what would make a good profile photo (“Ah Bee, how ah? The picture must make me look pretty. Can take with your phone and you put for me? Can scan an old one or not?”), and started adding people she knew.

Yes, of course she added me as well.

Unlike my peers who thought it was the end of the world (read: crazy party life) when they spotted that dreaded friend request from their mother/father/ insert nosey family member here – I had different concerns.

You see my mother is not the type to stalk me on Facebook to check if I was secretly going out on drunken escapades with random strangers or canoodling with a new boyfriend — I’m not that “happening” in the first place (no, really, don’t let that picture byline fool you).

The incessant links to news articles and random photos of food or objects that populated her oldest daughter’s wall held little interest for her.

Essentially I think I was too boring for my mother to stalk. She probably had bigger (and more interesting) fishes in her sights.

My concerns began when she discovered Facebook games. She got fully and utterly hooked.

You name it; she’s tried it least once, thanks largely to a few of her friends who were equally addicted. She even joined a game, which essentially had you maintaining a virtual aquarium to accompany her friend’s seven-year-old daughter.

Keep in mind; this was back in the day before Facebook tweaked the news feed to filter out all those blasted notifications.

My mother sent me strawberries in Café World. My mother sent me a challenge in Mafia Wars. My mother sent me a fish. My mother unlocked something, nothing, and everything from the looks of it.

She eventually lost her drive for these games because she realised one annoying aspect about it, in “social” games, progression (and achievement) hinges upon not just your skills, but how many friends you have playing it as well.

These days, my mother is addicted to other types of games such as Words with Friends (she told me she usually plays 10 games simultaneously with her friend via the phone app) and all she bugs me for is access to my vocabulary.

That’s much better than the time I came home one night only to have my mother look up at me with a sad look on her face.

“Ah Bee ah… I want to expand my farm. I got enough money to buy it but not enough friends. I need seven, I only have six.”

Cue mother’s best “puppy dog eyed” look.

“All right Ma! I’ll join Farmville and be your friend, stop looking at me like that!”

Gabey pays her bills as a reporter for weekly IT pullout Bytz. You can throw digital brickbats or stalk her on Twitter (@gabeygoh).