Just to clarify: this post has nothing to do with bombs or pornography.
If your teens are like my teens, chances are they are cave dwellers. And by caves, I mean bedroom or basement inhabitants.
Despite their cocooning tendencies, I know (because the experts have told me) that I must keep the lines of communication open. I need to protect them from all of the evils that lurk on the internet and beyond.
So, when my children shut themselves off in their bedrooms, I like to make numerous visits in order to ensure all is well and everyone is safe.
If you would like to follow my shining example, since I am a
self-proclaimed teen-raising expert, here is an example of the conversations I repeatedly have with my spawn. (You’re welcome.)
In order to protect their fragile identities, the Heir (age 17) shall hereby be known as William, while the Spare (age 14) shall be called Harry.
Me: (knocking quietly…
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