Sperm-meets-egg was child's play compared with Sex Chat 2.0.
My parents never had to tell me not to Instagram naked body parts to friends and strangers; to warn me against watching online porn or talking dirty on FaceTime.
None of these things existed when I was a teenager in the 80s. My folks could tell I was on the phone by following the long curly cord to the basement steps, where I'd sit for hours gabbing to friends.
Pornography was VHS tapes stashed under a bed or a stack of Playboy magazines beside the toilet, rather than endless lines of computer code buried in browser history.
The profile about Tauranga sexual abuse counsellor Denise McEnteer in Bay of Plenty Times Weekend earlier this month was another reminder children can become sexualised too soon if we're not vigilant.
And that they can get that way even if we are eagle-eyed.
McEnteer said she has seen children as young as 9 sexting. I believe Miss 13 and Master 12 when they say they're not now, nor would they as kids, send inappropriate messages or naked selfies into the cyber verse (allow me my hope).
But some of their peers will engage in those activities, if they haven't already. A NetSafe study reported 40 per cent of teens ages 14 to 17 say they know someone who has sent naked or nearly nude images.
An acquaintance last week told me her own Year 9 student, the same age as my daughter, had received an unwanted text - a penis picture - from a 14 or 15-year-old boy.
The girl was traumatised. Had my kid received such a photo, I like to think I'd have called the cops, though I might have framed the image and presented it to the boy in front of his parents.
As for the wannabe porn star's thought process? Absent among brain cells bathed in testosterone, misted with the cloying scent of body spray. The boy has issues and a gross, reductionist way of trying to impress girls. You are more than your anatomy, kid.
Put it away.
I relate to my children (and not for the first time) the importance of keeping their bodies private, telling them once photos are online or in someone's phone, they're around forever.
While on the subject of bad form, my young ones tell me a popular comeback among some of their classmates to the taunt, "You suck," is: "And you swallow."
"What???" I ask. Flabbergasted. "Do you guys even know what that means?"
Wide eyes. Shaking heads. Thank God they don't know. Or rather, didn't know.
I tell them in as little detail as possible. Before the final words escape my mouth, there are shrieks and "NO, NO, NO!..."
Miss 13 removes the towel that was wrapped around wet hair, leans back onto the floor and covers her face. "MOM! You just ruined my childhood!"
Innocence. Lost.
Which is how I feel as their mum. Talking about the sad and dangerous ways adults and juveniles deploy their bodies is like jabbing puppies with needles.
This parenting stuff isn't for wimps. Who wants to describe for his daughter the realities of rape and its twins, shame and denial? Who wants to teach her son about consent and its essential escorts, sobriety and repeated verbalisation of desire?
Can those last bits wait until next week? I need a breather before I blast another hole in the ozone of my children's fleeting youth.
