Johnny has a frequent grumble about ICT lessons - he complains that the teacher constantly repeats himself on matters of internet safety - don't give your real name (oops), never meet anyone in real life who you only know from the Internet (busted), never go onto a website that you don't already know about (really?). I can quite see how the poor child is conflicted given the sensible messages from school and the flagrant disregard of all of them by his blogging mother.
But this morning, our modern, technology fuelled life bit back.
Let me share the cautionary tale - it's Saturday of a luxuriously un-busy Bank Holiday weekend. I awaken shortly after 7, but there is no need to leap up. It might be nice to loaf in bed with a cup of tea and catch up on a few blogs. But the other half of the bed is empty. Hubby has already got up and has clearly headed downstairs. Damn. I have two options - get up and make my own tea (but the bed is warm and cosy) or yell downstairs and ask him to make me one (but at least one of the children is still sleeping and I don't want to wake them up).
Then an idea dawns on me. My phone is downstairs, but hubby's iPad is next to the bed. I could facetime him and ask him to make the tea. Cunning plan, eh? I thought so. So I call my phone. I hear ringing, then a scuffle, then a thunk, then a pause and an "Ali iiii".
I go downstairs. There is blood dripped liberally across the kitchen floor. Hubby is standing in the utility room. He does not look good.
Turns out that when the phone rang, he jumped up from the table to grab it before it woke anyone and smacked straight into the kitchen door, splitting his eyebrow open.
Needless to say, the sleeping child was awakened. And I ended up making the tea (sweet for him - he's not good with blood).
They just don't always warn you about the correct perils at school, do they?
Luckily he doesn't bear a grudge. Probably why we have been married for 20 years. That and the fact that he usually brings me a cup of tea without having to be asked...