the case for parental control software
L, looking over my shoulder while I make my way through my daily reading: "Mommy, can I have that?" she says, pointing to the 'Fuck Rehab shirt' currently featured on PerezHilton.com.
Me: "No."
L: "Please?"
Me, trying to quickly scroll to down the page: "No, you may not."
L, still looking over my shoulder: "Mommy, who is that lady?"
Me: "Um, her name is Posh Spice."
(insert snort from husband, listening to the exchange from across the room.)
L: "Posh Spice? Is she a princess?"
Me: "Um. Kind of."
Me: "No."
L: "Please?"
Me, trying to quickly scroll to down the page: "No, you may not."
L, still looking over my shoulder: "Mommy, who is that lady?"
Me: "Um, her name is Posh Spice."
(insert snort from husband, listening to the exchange from across the room.)
L: "Posh Spice? Is she a princess?"
Me: "Um. Kind of."
Perfection.