One day last year, my parents were visiting. My mom and I were in the kitchen, and she casually said, “Oh, honey, I keep meaning to ask you: are you the ‘Lisa G’ who commented on my spatula review on Amazon?” In that moment, several things ran through my head:
- Are you f***ing kidding me? I have a stressful exec job at a tech startup, two teenage kids, two dogs, two cats (okay, the cats take zero effort on my part, because Ted usually picks up their poop, but they add to the impact here), and a house with a massive water leak, such that the boys taking showers upstairs sends sheets of water down my living room window. For the record, I never would have noticed the leak, except that we had moved the kegerator into the living room for the annual holiday party, and when the kegerator got wet, I got suspicious and started investigating. My first method of investigation was to look up at the living room ceiling, which had a large wet brown ring about 6′ in diameter. Obviously, the living room doesn’t see much action. The funny thing is that my solution to the leak was to make the boys start using the downstairs bathroom, and to move the kegerator back over by the kitchen. That was last December. Plumber referrals welcome.
- Who writes spatula reviews on Amazon? Even more amazingly, who COMMENTS on other people’s spatula reviews? There are really only two angles one could take: either “Oh, yes, that previous reviewer is spot-on. This spatula went ’round the edges of the mixing bowl flawlessly, time after time, and it cleaned up well in the dishwasher,” or “I don’t know why this person would write a good review. They must be friends and family of the company making the spatulas. This spatula is a piece of sh*t.” In any case, how can one spatula impact your life so much that you need to document it publicly?
- Is this my same mother who has been extremely busy for the past four decades? When I ask her how she’s doing, her first response is always “Busy! We’re going out with Neal and Deanna tonight, and tomorrow I have two doctor appointments, and on Thursday I have my volunteer thing in the morning, and then the ladies are coming over to play ‘Hand and Foot,’ and then on Friday…”, etc. So this whole spatula-review-plus-comments-situation makes me want to crumple up my face like Colombo and start asking the hard questions. “In fact, you aren’t that busy, are you? Did you or did you not find time to get a pedicure last weekend?” Eventually she’ll have to crack and admit that she sometimes puts her feet up and leisurely leafs through Sunset Magazine.
(Mom, if you’re reading this, please know that you’ve earned the right to relax! You worked your ass off for 40+ years. No one is judging you for sneaking in a little downtime. Unless, of course, you spend that downtime reviewing spatulas on Amazon — then I’ll judge the crap out of you. 😉
I think what I actually said was, “How funny! Nope, must have been a different Lisa G.”
Postscript: Clearly I am in the minority on this topic. I just went looking for a spatula photo to accompany this post, and the one I happened to click on is a spatula with 5,042 reviews. Over FIVE THOUSAND people took the time to write about it. Sorry, Mom!