(Around 11:15 on Friday, September 12th, in the unlikely event that you should read this)
Thank you so much for letting us all take part in the retelling of your breathtaking adventures of finding out about your thirteen year old son’s appalling porn surfing habits from the browser history on his iPad.
And welcome to the world of modern parenthood. Aside from your adressing the possible moral implications of your son looking at titties, there’s another issue which concerns us all: Privacy. Ours, yours and his.
I am sure he would have loved to know that, thanks to his mother, that being you, we’re now all thoroughly informed, the entire bus load of us, of this aspect of his life in full detail, including (as I could easily gather from various other bits of your call) his full name and birth date, his cellphone number, clues to your home address, the name of his school, his teacher, several of his friends, as well as the full name and email address of the person with whom you’re speaking on the phone.
I couldn’t have missed it if I tried. Had I been so inclined, and taking notes rather than typing this, I could have caused you and your family no end of trouble and unpleasantness. That said, I know nothing of the intentions or tendencies of any of the other two dozen people on board, all easily within earshot.
The hitherside of your conversation is not private! Please MAKE IT SO!
The guy in the seat behind you.
PS: I noticed that, after your call, you rather fittingly turned your attention to a copy of “50 Shades of Gray”. You may want to keep that one well outside the conversation when again you confront your son about the inappropriateness of pornography.