Disclaimer: If I happen to be married to you and you are reading THIS blog, you do so at your own risk. We talked about this, Dood. It may or may not be about you-you're taking your chances!
Once upon a time, oh...? About five years ago? I found out that my baby boy was not such a baby anymore.
The family computer in the living room was not working one night, so I decided to go check my email in Boychild's room while he was at a basketball game. I went turned on his light and looked at his screen and sighed. He had so many downloaded programs on his computer that automatically started whenever it was booted up that it took ten minutes to close them all. If you didn't, though, the computer wouldn't run worth a chit, so I resigned myself to the land of clicking x's and sat down at his desk. Every time I x'd out of something, there was another layer underneath. Exasperating.
So I'm sitting there clicking things closed, when all of a sudden the layer underneath revealed my little boy. ALL of my little boy, in all his glory, in the exact same thing he was wearing when he came into this world. Nothing but a hard on. And OHMYGAWD he was farking NOT my little anything anymore. Nice image to be burned into my brain for the REST. OF. MY. LIFE.
Now, I'm not the kind of mom who would ever go snooping, but when something like this hits you between the eyes like a two by four any reasonably intelligent person is going to do at least a little more investigating, so I continued to close things out until I was down to a blank screen. I opened AOHell and signed in as Boy (his password was stored) and went to look in his pictures. Again. OMG. Then I looked in his sent mail, and sure enough, he is not just admiring his own goodies, he was SHARING them. There is only so much I can take, so I didn't dig any further. Suffice it to say I was FREAKING THE HELL OUT.
Now, Boy has some long standing problems due to a traumatic birth, the least of which is a sometimes childlike naivete. When confronted with what I had found, he said that "All of the kids I know are doing it." I took away his webcam and computer privileges, and we had a talk about pornography and child pornography and how he had no flipping clue as to who those pictures were being looked at by. I asked him if he thought a girl would think he was a nice boy if he sent her pictures like that, and that one stopped him in his tracks. He looked at me with stricken eyes and said "You don't think I'm a nice boy anymore?" I shit you not when I say that there is no way this child could have been playing me. The upshot of the evening was that he promised it would not happen again.
Fast forward a couple of years and Boy is a young adult. We are close, this young man and I, and he knows he can talk to me about pretty much anything. The Unit was on the boat, and one night as we are about to eat dinner, the Boy says "I want to be circumcised." Um. Nice dinner conversation? I looked at him blankly and said "What?" and he repeated himself "I want to be circumcised." I thought back 18 years to the long months he was in the hospital neonatal unit and the conversation on this very subject I had back then. If memory serves, I told the doctors "Not just no, but hell no you're not circumcising him. He's been through enough." Heh. Hindsight is 20/20 and all that crap, right? I asked the Boy what brought on this desire to trim up the young baloney pony, and if he was aware of what that particular procedure involved. He replied that he was still a virgin because his girlfriend was squicking out on how ye old Johnson looked, and that yes, he knew what was involved. Yeah, right.
I enjoyed reminding him of that conversation a few weeks later as he lay moaning on the couch grousing at me that his twig and giggleberries were killing him. Killing him? Killing ME is more like it. Of course the damn thing has to fooking AIR DRY and be tended every several hours with antibiotic cream etc. And since he only has the use of ONE hand (very obviously only one is NEEDED for some things, but evidently not THIS) guess who got to do said tending? May I just say that I know that boy's wanker better than I ever EVER wanted to?
Fast forward another couple of years to the almost present. I started my blog
in September as a text based document, but slowly but surely have been learning (by trial and error since I know no 'puter geeks in real life) how to add little elements into my posts such as links and pictures. As the birds can sometimes be distracting when I'm trying to write, I have taken to occasionally going over to the house to write instead of doing it (heh. I said doing it. Just sayin'.) here at the houseboat. Two weeks ago, I ended up doing just that-preparing my post for the day over at the house on the Boy's (now a full fledged adult) badass computer. As I am flipping back and forth between servers and typing in web addresses, these browsers are pulling up all kinds of porn sites in their histories. I didn't really notice it at first, as Iwas
actually working at the time. When I mailed myself a picture from my IPhone and then tried to find it, however, I was in for a rude awakening. For there in the Pictures folder are more damn pictures-LOTS more damn pictures-of Mr. Happy! WTF?
I let him know very SUBTLY, that I had found them. I was giving about to give away my old phone and needed to update it, but told him I'd have to do it "At the houseboat, because I don't want to send a stranger pictures of your dick." Heh. You'd have thought I hit him with a taser. His head whipped around like Linda Blair's in The Exorcist and he said "What?" I said "You heard me. I can't update my old phone on your computer because all of your dick pictures are on it." He looked mortified and muttered something about "I can take them off."
Am I alone here? What can I do to convince this kid he needs to keep his pecker in his pants? I can't babysit him. Legally, he is an adult. I'm at my wits end, and I just don't know what to do. He wants to be an actor-maybe his calling IS porn-do I want to stifle his MUSE? *snort* I'm sorry. I know this is not funny, but if I don't laugh about it, I am going to lose my damn mind. Any suggestions?