I haven’t written about my family in a while. Too preoccupied with me. I often wish I were a more honourable person, a better father, like the dad at the soccer games. Instead, I’ve run away from my family, 3000+ miles, and I’m still running. Maybe it’s time to stop.
I can access all my home computers from London with the ability to mirror whatever someone sitting right there might see. Early this evening I log on to my main computer, the display opens and a browser window is open showing some adult porn site. I watch the mouse click around. Latino women with big tits.
I call my house, the answering machine picks-up. I call out. No response. Taking control of my home computer, I open up Notepad on the remote computer and type “you’re so busted”. The browser window quickly closes. I call home again, my 14 year old answers. “And?”, is my question. “Oh, hi Papa, how are you doing?”, he replies. I’m doing just fine and I see you’re fine as well, I go on to explain what I’ve seen. “Oh no, I’m not at your computer, I have no idea what you are talking about”, he replies. Yeah right, you pervert and Latino women, please (I know hold the remarks).
He’s 14, at that age, whacking off 12 times a day if he could get away with it, thinking no one has any idea. I have an idea. I know. Been there, done that. But I’m not there. I’m 3000 miles away.
TC is sitting in my lap, I fixed him a few sample tapas that we’d had in Madrid, he’s a returned to being my happy little tiger. But he turns serious as I tell him about the porn incident, “Chris, your kids need you, it’s a critical period in their life and you can’t dump all this on your wife”. Honest words. More thought needed.