When Hanna, our oldest first started asking if she could “have an app” or “have a game” or “play a game” or “buy something on itunes” we needed a translator. Then we realized we needed to be vigilant when it came to what our kids were doing online. Okay, it wasn’t exactly in that moment. The whole porn thing had us on edge too.

 
Hanna got the asking down to a science; “Mom, can I get an app? All of my friends have it. It’s free and it’s appropriate.”

 
She knew I was going to first ask about the appropriateness, second about whether it would cost anything and third if she knew of anyone else on the planet who already had it so at any moment I could call a parent on an old fashioned telephone and ask if it was in fact a) appropriate and b) free, only then could she really start to enjoy a game for five, delicious seconds until she stumbled upon the next treasure.

 
Sometimes I would look over Hanna’s shoulder and have her delete an app if I thought it objectified women (all of them) or had her feeling like she looked better cropping and air brushing her skin or shopping to fill some hole in her life or decorating donuts (because I didn’t want her stuck on this as a viable career).

 
With Ellie, her formula was a little quicker, “Mom, can I get this free, appropriate, educational app that Hanna already has and you haven’t deleted?”

 
Yep. (points for throwing in “educational”)

 
So with Chloe, as is often the case with the third born, anything goes.

 
And let me say out loud, “I’m sorry!” to Hanna and Ellie who had to break down the barriers but we’re tired and simply don’t care anymore.
Chloe, “Mom, can I….?”

 
Sure, honey. Go ahead. Mama needs a hot cup of tea and some toothpicks to keep these eyes open.

 
When enough caffeine had successfully infiltrated my body, I asked Ellie if the game Chloe wanted was okay for a six year old.

 
She said, “It’s pretty good. Sometimes a bad word pops up but other than that…”

 
Noted.

 
But not really. In fact, I didn’t note that at all. I just nodded, blew steam and sipped and off they went to stare at screens while listening to the neighbours play outside.

 
I mean, how bad could these bad words really be? I remember Ellie having to whisper the bad word “stupid” for about three years and I was fairly certain that was as bad as she was willing to risk even discussing.

 
Yesterday, while at the airport, waiting for a flight, Chloe was playing the simple, Ellie-approved game she had requested.

 
It was free, it looked appropriate. It involved a small dot that became increasingly larger the more dots it “ate.” Harmless.

 
Except one of the dots, one of the bad dots, a dot the size of a quarter with a fly on it came floating happily towards Chloe’s dot and while she maneuvered to exit its path, I noticed in large, bold print the word “FUCK.”

 
Huh.

 
Wait, is that what you meant by inappropriate, Ellie?

 
Ellie quickly grabbed her ipad and erased the hard drive or the memory or the mother ship or whatever the kids are calling it.

 
Hanna smirked.

 
Greg was thankful he wasn’t out of pocket.
Then I yelled, “WHAT WAS THAT?”

 
Chloe said, “That’s fly. You don’t want to go near him. Even his name looks mean.”

 
Noted. (This time)