Kerry_loves_Reese@hotmail.com

Yesterday, my 14 year old son was on the computer checking his email. I had promised to send someone an email by 4 yesterday afternoon and had forgotten, so I told Reese to quickly get off the computer so I could use it for 5 minutes. Instead of closing it out, he just minimized it. When I finished, I brought his page up for him and the title of this blog is what I saw. I promise, I had no intention of looking at his email, so don't judge me too harshly. It was like passing a train wreck, you felt dirty, but you had to do it. I found out that the little girl down the street, also 14, is in love with Reese. Apparently he asked her out (where to I do not know) and she responded, "Do you know how long I have been waiting for you to ask?" All of two weeks I am sure. I also discovered something unpleasant. She also said something about "making out." I did not get the whole thing, but it can't be good. I surprised myself by, not only reading his email, but also by the strong effect the content had on me. I felt physically sick and wanted to cry. I understand young love. In many ways, I am still a 14 year old waiting on love to happen to me in the only way it can happen to the innocent. I guess what bothers me is the idea of any, and I mean any type of sexuality in my children. That type of progression means they are getting older, and in turn, so am I. Donald Trump just recently had a baby. At 59, he is getting older and is facing his immortality. He is quoted as saying, "I keep having kids, so I stay young right?" No Donald, you do not, but I can see where he is going. The progression of time is easily measured outside of our own minds and bodies. We see our parents grow older and our children get taller, but we are too inside ourselves to witness our own aging process. In the future, I will remind him to close his email before I use the computer. The less we see, the better.