I probably should have put this together way before now. Call me slow. Sweet Pea’s 10 years old, and like most kids her age, she’s online trolling around just like the big kids do. However, up until recently, all she’s been interested in is, like, Disney Channel and Webkins and other such age-appropriate garbage I can’t believe people get paid to program. Anyway, over the weekend – the dreadfully cold, rainy and miserable weekend with very little to do – she strolled into my room and casually asked, “So your blog is Mix Tape Therapy dot com, right?”
“Um, yeah…why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason,” she replies, then dashes out of the room faster than a Mexican tourist with the runs.
Sweet Pea comes back about 5 minutes later, asking me about her nickname on my blog, and did I really like Katy Perry and why is she with a guy who likes all those girls, and what’s the movie, Saturday Night Fever about, and what does it mean when someone comes out and on and on and on.
“So, you’re reading my blog now?”
“Yeah, you sure curse a lot, Mom.”
“Well, I curb myself in real life. Do I get extra credit points for that?”
She just laughed. “So, can I read some more?”
Now, I’m stuck. I mean, I don’t want to censor her, but I’m also not up for explaining about some of the stranger sexual proclivities of my readers either. I’d like for her to stay 10 for as long as possible, if you know what I mean.
“Well, to tell you the truth, honey, some of the stuff I write about is very grown-up. I’d like for you to read it all someday, but there’s a more foul-mouthed, racier side to me online that I’m not up for you meeting right now. Ok?”
She rolled her eyes and said, “Oh Mom, I know all your sides. I know you’ve got a potty mouth.”
“Hmm, uh…yeah. About that. It’s more than just curse words. Just wait a few years, k?”
She said she wouldn’t read anymore, but if I were her, I’d be reading every single word on the down lo. I probably should have just let her read it. Now I’ve made it “forbidden fruit” which means I’ve made this blog more enticing than it actually is. Stupid, stupid me…
So I’m constantly spewing out advice like vomit. What do you think I should’ve done? Really. I want to know.