A few weeks ago, I was on our main computer in the kitchen. This is the computer our children are allowed to use. It’s on the main floor. It’s in a high traffic area. According to all the experts, I’m taking all the proper steps to help prevent my children from falling prey to internet predators and other internet evils.
So I’m sitting at the computer, typing in a website into the address bar, and as always happens, other websites which have been recently accessed begin appearing.
I spot one which I haven’t seen before: http://www.pornblahblahblah no this is not the actual name of the website, as much as I’d love to put the name of the website and enjoy the hits on my blog, I do have integrity…well, some…
Of course I click on the link, and what should my virgin eyes behold but the sight of men and women doing the nasty, women and women doing the nasty, women and rolling pins doing the nasty.
Someone has been accessing porn on my computer.
And no. It wasn’t me.
As if it was me.
I don’t have time to get my motor running by surfing porn.
My idea of foreplay is pulling down my pants.
I call my husband, and say, “Wayne, please tell me you’ve been surfing porn on the kitchen computer.”
He says, “Porn? Why would I surf porn? It’s hockey season.”
So I say, “Maybe it was Wyatt?” (Wyatt is 14.)
But in unison, we say, “No. It was Jackson.” (He’s 13.)
Jackson is a good kid, but he’s the one who will always get caught doing things he’s not supposed to because he’s just not sneaky enough.
Oh he tries.
But he fails.
Jackson comes home from school.
I call him up to my bedroom.
Immediately he knows he’s in trouble, but unfortunately, he pulls so many stunts, he has no idea what he’s been busted for this time.
“So Jackson, you do realize I have this special program on the computer that allows me to access all the websites you kids go into.”
“I found out today that you were in a very inappropriate site. Would you care to come clean about this and save yourself a punishment by being honest?”
And the kid is so fucken cute, it’s hard for me to keep a straight face when his little mouth curls up into the “Oh shit!” expression.
But I do keep a straight face.
I give him credit though.
His survival instincts kicked right in, and without missing a beat, he replies, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
And turns to
flee for his life leave my bedroom.
I sit on my bed. Count to three, and…
Enter Jackson. Terror written all over his face.
“Mom, I was on a website…umm…porn…but I didn’t know what it was. The boys at school told me to go there, and I did, but I didn’t know what would show up, and as soon as I saw what it was, I logged out, and I didn’t know, and…” Cue the cry of fright.
Don’t worry. I don’t buy the whole I-logged-out-as-soon-as-I-saw-the-two-people-fucking alibi.
But I did use this as an opportunity to
thoroughly humiliate him teach him that men and women who really love each other don’t have sex like the people on the porn site.
That kind of loving is degrading to women and only performed by people who are in the first 18 months of a hot and steamy love affair, and can’t get into enclosed spaces fast enough to tear each other’s clothing off and no respectable man and woman do those dirty things to each other. Love making is tender and respectful…and blah blah blah…
I have no idea what more I was spouting off, because I starting thinking about what I was going to make for supper.
I ended my speech with a reiteration of the fact that I have a special program on the computer which sends me an email when certain websites are accessed.
So in the future, he better think twice before pulling his plug in my kitchen.
There. That outta do it.
The kid has been scared shitless to go anywhere near the computer ever since.
This is me wiping my hands.
Job well done.