I have a bitch. What's new, right?
I have a bitch about people who use my sons' MemoryOf websites to pay tribute to their own.
The interactive feature on those sites is nice because it allows my friends and family to leave kind words whenever the mood strikes. It's heartwarming to know that they think of us (sometimes at very odd times of the day and night).
But there is a hidden drawback to the interactive feature of an online tribute page. OTHER people who look specifically for pages of dead children so that they can leave comments about their own dead children.
Now, I understand the need to connect...that's why my email is available on those pages. But why must these people light candles or leave tributes that are more about their own loved ones than the person for whom the page is dedicated. I personally think it's tacky. And rude. Would they go to someone's funeral and only talk about themselves? Ha! I should know better than to ask that...because maybe they would. But really, there must be some sort of online etiquette about this.
[Maybe this is just an extension of my number one pet peeve...talking about yourself too much. If it's your space...your time...you are the focus of attention...fine (like on your own blog...in your own home...at a party for you). If it's someone else's space or time...or someone else should be the focus of attention...then shut the hell up and stop talking about yourself. (I think there was an episode of Friends where they accurately used the phrase, "Stealing someone's thunder.") Seriously. Don't twist every single thing into a story about yourself. Don't talk incessantly about yourself. Don't boast, don't brag, and for the love of Pete, don't tell me how your life is so much worse because this or that happened. It drives me nuts!]
I guess what I wish I could say to those unidentified strangers is this...Don't go onto Travis' website and light a candle about your "little angel so-and-so." While I feel your pain, and I will gladly talk with you via email, this is a place to focus on my little half-baked boy. If you can't do that, then please keep your fingers from typing here.