Much like forty percent of the online population, a local mother of three teenagers still remains unclear on what exactly constitutes a ‘meme’.

Shirley Winters, 46, from the suburbs of Bronte, comes forward with this staggering admission, after having an intervention staged by her family just last week. They have since placed all her social media accounts on lockdown, and plan on returning access to her once she has undergone the necessary rehabilitation.

“Things really reached a fever pitch around here,” comments Reese, 19, eldest child of the household. “I mean, mum just calls any picture posted on Facebook a meme. Like, no. This has got to stop.”

“Well the kids seem to really care about this,” says Daryl, 48, husband and father. “Full disclosure, I’m not quite sure what these maymays [sic] are either. I’m just glad the kids are still talking to us.”

“Don’t acknowledge me or I’ll scream,” says Laurie, 14, youngest child.

The Winters matriarch was last reported having completed introductory courses on the subject of basic meme history, covering Pepes and doges, all the way to intermediate courses of >greentexts studies. Specialized short courses in the ethics of Simpsonwave, and Bee Movie-ology has also been discussed. She is expected to soon commence a syllabus of higher tier sh*tposting, with hopes of graduating with honours in doggos, long doggos, fat doggos, and smol puppers.

“I knew what that gorilla one was, and Gene Wilder from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” says Shirley. “I had no idea there was such an expansive culture around it. It’s been very eye opening.”

Analysts predicts she will reach the status of meme lord, perhaps even page admin, by August 2017.

“The progress is truly… satisfying. We’re all better for it, I reckon,” says Reese.

“Does anyone care about what I think? You all missed my graduation,” comments Violet, 17, middle child.

“I hate you all, and hope your deaths are slow,” says Laurie.

Snapchat-leader

By Garry Lu