My septuagenarian mom has gripped modern technology by its microchips. She loves to sit on a bench overlooking the Pacific Ocean and shout over the wind into Skype on her smartphone. But even more than this, she loves to compose email by talking into her phone. I’ve gotten used to messages that spell my name with a K instead of a Ch or are delightfully unfathomable mysteries because my mom loves to use words that her smartphone has never heard of and so it swaps in what it feels is the closest approximation. Deciphering the messages is so much more fun than perusing the perils of spellcheck/automatic word completion.

The last message she sent threw me for quite a loop – what the hell was she talking about??? – until I resorted to reading it out loud. Long story short is that sometimes my bills arrive in her mailbox and she either writes a check from my bank account or from hers, as fits the situation. She likes to keep me posted about this. This last message from her said I paid your latest bill with my mullah.

Hah! As my other half said when I told him, he’d be very happy to meet this mullah of hers. He’s welcome here anytime.