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I really do have mixed feelings about spying on children. I don't know why these antique examples come to mind, but I've always been kind of retro, kind of behind my time.

It doesn't seem to be any kind of solution anyway; being a parent of a teenager in America is now more than ever like being the Dutch boy with his finger in the proverbial dyke--stick your finger in one hole, thwart one feature, and they've invented a new one while you were plugging up the first--or like someone in a horror movie. I didn't participate in the naughty fads of my day so much as read about them in Life magazine while sitting in the kitchen in my flannel nightie, drinking a glass of milk and eating a box of Nilla wafers and watching "The Mary Tyler Moore Show." Streaking, that was big, and skinny dipping at rock concerts, and mooning.

You will bicker over these features incessantly, and you will worry, given the ferocious concentration she exhibits while she types away, whether these pastimes have in fact 'possessed' her. " I could have been more on top of these ever-changing computer entertainments, but I was still making rules about television-watching and cell-phone use and text messaging. I never know anything about the latest computer attractions. The whole computer-and-teenager thing was way, way out of my league. I asked the young computer guy who comes over to periodically not solve the you-keep-getting-kicked-off-the-Internet-in-certain-rooms-of-my-house problem if I could get parental controls on the computer.

He said the controls were very crude and dumb: for example, they would block anything coming in on the Internet with the word "breast" in it, even if you were trying to research "breast cancer." This did indeed sound dumb, so we didn't get the controls.

I hardly ever see her email Inbox except very fleetingly, as I pass through the little nook in the hallway where we have moved her computer from her bedroom.

Here's how I know about the penis: I sit down at my daughter's computer, my barely-a-teenager daughter's computer, one recent afternoon while mine is in the shop, and here on my daughter's computer screen is her email Inbox.

Product datasheet Upgrade Price Guarantee Compatible with Windows 10, 8.1, 8, 7, Vista and XP, 32 Bit / 64 Bit Editions New language versions: Chinese - Lithuanian - Japanese - Polski - Romanian - Spanish - Czech Update Star is compatible with Windows platforms."Teaching abstinence doesn't work," my baby told me when she showed me the condoms and saw my mouth hanging open. "But I just think thirteen is really too young to think about needing condoms, much to young to be even contemplating having--" "Ewwwww! " But now, when I see the penis picture, I think, Did she not mean it about ewwwww and disgusting? Could she have thought that the nurse was sending her home with condoms in order to have a funner summer? Then one of them remembers something: it's a fad, a teenage thing. The boys are sending around pictures of their penises that they have taken using their i Phones. " He sounds wary; he doesn't recognize my phone number on his i Phone screen. If I happen to glance at her email Inbox, if I happen to even cast my eyes to that side of the well-trafficked little nook, my child scolds me for privacy invasion. It's such a novelty to be alone with her email that I cannot help myself: I scroll through her Inbox. (Although not long ago on the "Today Show," I heard a parenting expert advise parents to read their children's email, but not in secret. Our school, and the entire parenting industry, tells you to have the computer not in the child's room but in a more public, "well-trafficked" zone so that they aren't seduced into dirty Websites where strangers might try to send) them pictures of, oh, say, their genitalia.

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