Parental Controls
posted by Evan Jake at 7:12 PM
The Internet should be guarded with controls to prevent access by new parents.
A couple days ago, mom and dad noticed a small red dot on the side of my nose. Naturally, they were appalled to see such a disdainful blemish on their beautiful little boy. Mom and dad looked at it closely, examining it for a really long time. After much discussion and scrutiny, dad wondered if perhaps a magnifying glass would help provide a clearer diagnosis.
Dad rummaged through drawers and across table tops. With all of my blankets, pacifiers, clothes, bottles, spit-up rags, toys and baby instruction manuals scattered everywhere it's gotten pretty hard to find anything in our house. It's kind of like an archeological dig. Beneath the layers of baby paraphernalia are the ruins of their life before I came along. Dad never did find what he was looking for.
So without a magnifying glass, dad went to the Internet in search of meaning, prognosis and treatments for my little red dot. The obvious conclusion was that I had a rapidly growing cavernous hemangioma. This little red dot, it turns out is actually a benign tumor of the capillaries that would grow quickly in size during the next year, distorting my vision (not to mention looking hideous in the middle of my face) and leaving permanent scarring. I'm so darned cute, the possibility was pretty disturbing.
Mom and dad panicked as they sorted through their options. Would a surgeon cut it off for me? Would they use a laser or liquid nitrogen? Should they wait until I'm older before I have surgery? Would they have to put a paper bag over my head until then? Would dad airbrush all of my photos on the computer and forbid relatives from actually seeing me in person?
While considering all of the plans, mom decided I needed a bath. Dad went back to the computer to find a plastic surgeon covered on his insurance plan. But during my bath with mom, a miracle happened!
Mom yelled to dad in the other room. "Hey, does the Internet say that hemangiomas wash off with soap and water?" Dad's answer was: no. Duh.
So it seems my little red dot was nothing more than that. A little...red...dot. At least they didn't rush immediately to the doctor this time. Which is good. It's an improvement, I guess. But I sure wouldn't have minded the car ride -- I love car rides!
~:O
The Internet should be guarded with controls to prevent access by new parents. A couple days ago, mom and dad noticed a small red dot on the side of my nose. Naturally, they were appalled to see such a disdainful blemish on their beautiful little boy. Mom and dad looked at it closely, examining it for a really long time. After much discussion and scrutiny, dad wondered if perhaps a magnifying glass would help provide a clearer diagnosis.
Dad rummaged through drawers and across table tops. With all of my blankets, pacifiers, clothes, bottles, spit-up rags, toys and baby instruction manuals scattered everywhere it's gotten pretty hard to find anything in our house. It's kind of like an archeological dig. Beneath the layers of baby paraphernalia are the ruins of their life before I came along. Dad never did find what he was looking for.
So without a magnifying glass, dad went to the Internet in search of meaning, prognosis and treatments for my little red dot. The obvious conclusion was that I had a rapidly growing cavernous hemangioma. This little red dot, it turns out is actually a benign tumor of the capillaries that would grow quickly in size during the next year, distorting my vision (not to mention looking hideous in the middle of my face) and leaving permanent scarring. I'm so darned cute, the possibility was pretty disturbing.
Mom and dad panicked as they sorted through their options. Would a surgeon cut it off for me? Would they use a laser or liquid nitrogen? Should they wait until I'm older before I have surgery? Would they have to put a paper bag over my head until then? Would dad airbrush all of my photos on the computer and forbid relatives from actually seeing me in person?
While considering all of the plans, mom decided I needed a bath. Dad went back to the computer to find a plastic surgeon covered on his insurance plan. But during my bath with mom, a miracle happened!
Mom yelled to dad in the other room. "Hey, does the Internet say that hemangiomas wash off with soap and water?" Dad's answer was: no. Duh.
So it seems my little red dot was nothing more than that. A little...red...dot. At least they didn't rush immediately to the doctor this time. Which is good. It's an improvement, I guess. But I sure wouldn't have minded the car ride -- I love car rides!
~:O
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