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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."We already show them how to put a condom on a banana at school," the nurse told me.
Gravely, I hold forth the picture of the penis I have printed out on the printer. And, yes, they say, they have heard that the girls are sending around pictures of their vaginas. 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.