Monday
December 15, 2014
Privacy
That night my daughter
was waiting for me at the top the stairs when I got home.
"You knew,"
she said, poking me in the chest.
"What?" I
asked. "And why are you poking
me?"
"You knew about
Brat Boy's new girlfriend and you didn't tell me."
"He thought you'd grill
him for information. He asked me not to say
anything."
"Of course I'd grill
him! I'll bet you didn't get any
details, did you?"
"He told me where
she lives in case I need to pick him up.
She's in his grade at school and he likes her. I know what a father needs to know."
Blondie looked at me
with a mixture of pity and sadness. She rattled
off a list of things she wanted to know, and how she planned to get the
information. I wondered if she had lied about
going to soccer camp in the summer, sneaking off instead to the CIA's
Interrogation school.
"Give the kid some
privacy," I said, knowing she wouldn't.
I pondered how this world of train wreck reality TV shows, selfies,
YouTube, NSA, Big Data, and tabloid journalism would be better off with just a
touch more privacy for everyone.
Today I will respect other people's privacy.
Relapse Prevention Group © 2014 by Ken Montrose
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