When your 88-year-old grandfather sends a request to be your “friend” on Facebook, you have two choices: Either confirm it, then quickly take down all those party pictures you thought were so funny, or plan on never coming home for the holidays. As someone who lists pinot grigio as a hobby, I was seriously concerned about my grandfather joining Facebook. I was worried my grandfather would get the wrong idea about me. Or worse yet, he’d find out exactly who I was — not the teetotaling granddaughter I try to portray twice a year when I go home.
