How to Survive a Zoom Call With Your Ex, Boss, and Mother All at Once

How to Survive a Zoom Call With Your Ex, Boss, and Mother All at Once

A Hilarious Guide to the Worst Possible Zoom Meeting Imaginable

It began, as most disasters do, with an innocent-looking calendar invite.

"Zoom Meeting: Project Synergy Catch-Up"

Attendees: You, Ex (Jamie), Boss (Mr. Thornberry), Mom (???)

Time: 3:00 PM

At first, you thought it was a mistake. Surely your boss hadn’t meant to add your mother and your ex to a work meeting. Surely the universe wasn’t aligning in a perfect triangle of emotional destruction. Surely this was a prank.

It was not.

Here's your survival guide, now that you're living the nightmare.

Step 1: Stay Calm. Then Panic. Then Fake Calm Again.

Your initial reaction will be denial:

"This can’t be real."

But as the clock ticks closer to 3 PM, and you see the attendees confirmed—including your mother, who somehow figured out Zoom after calling it "Zoo" for six months—you realize: this is real life.

You consider faking a power outage. Or a sudden, dramatic case of laryngitis. But then you remember: your boss knows you’re working from Starbucks. Your ex still has the receipts for your drama, and your mom will call every one of your relatives if you ghost her.

So, you sit. You breathe. You open Zoom.

Step 2: Prepare Your Battlefield (a.k.a. Background and Outfit)

You are dressing for three distinct audiences:

Boss: Professional, no nonsense.

Ex: Casual, like you're totally over them and thriving.

Mom: Wholesome, like you go to church and eat vegetables.

You settle on a collared shirt over pajama pants, with one earring in for flair. Your background? A tasteful bookshelf, artfully arranged to say “I’m intelligent, stable, and emotionally resilient.” You hide your wine bottles, fairy lights, and the stack of self-help books titled “How to Stop Crying in Public.”

Step 3: Enter the Zoom Call With the Confidence of a Toddler in a Batman Cape

You log in right on time.

Immediately, chaos.

Your mother is yelling at the screen:

“HELLO? IS THIS ON? WHY CAN’T I SEE MYSELF? WHO IS ‘THORNBERRY’? IS HE FROM THE NATURE SHOW?”

Your boss, Mr. Thornberry, is visibly confused but too British to say anything directly. He sits there blinking, sipping tea and questioning every life decision that led him to this moment.

Your ex, Jamie, joins with perfect lighting, a smug smile, and a virtual background of the Amalfi Coast.

Of course.

You? You're trying not to burst into flames.

Step 4: Manage Small Talk Like a Bomb Disposal Expert

Thornberry: “Oh, is this… is this your mother?”

Mom: “Yes! I’m [Your Name]’s mother. You must be the boss who makes them cry!”

Thornberry: “I—pardon?”

Jamie: “Classic.”

You scramble to redirect.

“So! Project Synergy, huh? Lots of… synergy happening!”

Your boss nods gravely. Jamie smirks. Your mother adjusts the camera so you're now looking directly up her nostrils.

Step 5: Use Corporate Jargon to Confuse Everyone

Whenever conversation veers toward emotional danger zones—i.e., your breakup, your failed career aspirations, or your mother’s unsolicited life advice—pivot HARD into business lingo.

Example:

Mom: “You still haven’t called your aunt back. She thinks you’re in a cult.”

You: “We’re streamlining external communications with non-core stakeholders, Mom.”

Jamie: “Wow. That was… a sentence.”

Thornberry: “Let’s circle back on the cult issue later.”

Step 6: Expect a Casual Meltdown Around Minute 23

Your mom begins telling a story about the time you peed in a ball pit at age six.

Your ex brings up that one vacation where you cried because your gelato melted.

Your boss asks if you're still planning to submit your performance review, which you completely forgot existed.

You begin to disassociate. You stare into the camera like it’s a portal to another universe. You consider muting yourself and simply crawling out a window.

But then Jamie's dog jumps on screen, your mother coos, and your boss softens.

“We’ve all had rough days,” he says, possibly referencing the entire Zoom call as one prolonged rough day.

Step 7: Exit With Grace (Or Close Enough)

You feign a poor internet connection.

“Sorry, I’m breaking up, lots of… static... there’s a lag and—”

You then freeze in place, eyes wide, as if your soul is buffering.

Then you press Leave Meeting.

You sit back, dazed, sweaty, and emotionally concussed.

You survived.

Post-Zoom Recovery Plan:

Burn your calendar.

Block everyone. (Just for an hour. Or until the next quarterly meeting.)

Pour a large glass of wine.

Write this story down, because no one’s going to believe you.

And that, dear reader, is how to survive a Zoom call with your ex, boss, and mother all at once:

By accepting that some things can't be explained. They can only be endured. With humor, mild trauma, and a really good Wi-Fi signal.