My mom added me as a friend on Facebook last night.

I’ve known she’s been on Facebook for a while. Every so often, she would make some comment to me that could only come about if she had seen my profile picture. My actual profile, of course, is closed to those who are not my friends, so all she’s been able to see is my picture and the fact that I used to go to Cornell, now go to Boston University and live here in Boston. All things which, I believe, she knows anyway.

And now I have my mom in friend-request limbo, creating the mother of all ethical dilemmas.

One half of my brain is screaming in abject horror. It quakes at the idea that my mother could have full access to my pictures, my wall posts, my group memberships and my list of friends. Sure, I can choose to show her only my limited profile, but aren’t there ways around that? Isn’t it just better to completely block all access? Wouldn’t it be like leaving the door only half-closed? Having your mom on Facebook is like employers accessing your profile, times a million thousand thousand.

And then, the other side, the miniscule, good-son side of me, the one full of guilt, wants to accept. I mean, I’m a grown-up now. My mom lives in Mexico, literally millions of miles away. This woman went through labor for me. She put up with me through my teenage years. She knows to get out of the room when the Braves are losing a crucial game. She makes me sandwiches whenever I go home for vacation. So what if she sees a few pictures of me and my friends carousing around? She knows I enjoy beer and tequila (though not perhaps the full extent of my enjoyment). What harm can it do, right?

So, in order to fully figure this out, I sat myself down and imagined what she would say and think if she acquired full access to my profile. What if she could see everything? What would she say?

I imagine it would involve a fairly long phone call which would essentially be a one-sided conversation and probably go as such:

“I have to say, Carlos, varsity beer pong? What’s beer pong? Is this why you had those ping pong balls in your apartment when I came to visit and was confused that you didn’t have a ping pong table? Why are you something called ‘The Grand Inquisitor’ in ‘The Jewish Conspiracy?’

“And I don’t like these wall posts at all. What did your friend mean when he said he hoped you enjoyed the clink? What do they mean by ‘arrested again?’ Why is Tim ‘surprised that you are alive after last night?’

“And these photos of you! You should tuck in your shirt. And stand up straight. Why do you have a drink in your hand in most of your pictures? You really shouldn’t go out that much. Why aren’t there pictures of you in the library? I haven’t seen a single picture of you in the library. Are you even going to the library? Who is that girl who shows up in a lot of your pictures? Is she nice? Whatever happened to Sarah? She was very nice. Do you have a girlfriend? Why don’t you ever tell us about the girls you meet?”

And so on and so forth.

Then what if she starts going to my friends’ profiles? She can disapprove of my friends like it’s eighth grade again. “Carlos, I’m not sure about your friends. Like that girl whose wall you keep writing on. She looks like she parties too much. I don’t think she’s good for you, not like Sarah. You never told us what happened with that. She seems to be doing well. It says she just got a job in NYC. Oh my god, it actually says she’s married. See? I told you she was marriage material.”

I’m not sure that I need to revisit that. The more I think about this, the worse it seems. What if she starts using applications? Do I really need an email telling me my mom has turned me into a zombie? Or that she has nicknamed me “my little ogre”?

Oh God. This just occurred to me. What if she starts friending my friends? The horror! The poke feature never made me want to throw myself off a bridge before.

Mom, I love you, but no. Absolutely frickin’ not. I’m sorry, but I won’t be your Facebook friend. It’s done. It’s clicked. Trust me, it’s best for both of us.

So why do I feel like the Stewie Griffin of the information age?

Carlos Maycotte,a first year student in the School of Law, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. He can be reached at [email protected].