It’s kind of a shame that our seven-year-old can read so well. When I’m at the computer reading some sordid article or having a private conversation through I.M. on gmail, I have to be sure she isn’t anywhere in eyeshot if I don’t want the inquisitive little bugger to read something inappropriate, scary, or just none of her beeswax.
I never thought I’d have to be concerned about her reading junk mail. When my husband came home and plunked the mail on the counter, G. meandered over and soon started crying. More specifically, she was weeping. She wasn’t sobbing and shaking uncontrollably, she just couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face. Why? Because: Read the rest of this entry