"You know that 'eleven-year-old girl' you're chatting to is really a sixty-year-old man in a tutu, don't you?" Photo / Getty
Anyone who has ever had to deal with teenagers and their super sophisticated pocket-held technology will know how problematic this is.
I resent that fact that I'm having to be a semi-pioneer in this field. Subsequent generations of parents will have well-established guidelines to follow and plenty of research upon which to base their decisions.
My prediction is that in the future - following evidence about the harm excessive technology use does to developing brains - smartphones and laptops will become restricted to users over the age of 18.
Until then, we must muddle along helping teenagers (and sometimes even younger children) operate in an online environment that is fast becoming the modern-day equivalent of the wild west.
Four years ago I was worried about ask.fm, "a website where users are able to ask anonymous questions of other users and are able to post anonymous comments". As you might imagine, such a forum is the perfect environment in which bullies can operate.
One of the anonymous contributions I discovered on a local person's ask.fm page was: "Your a ugly slut and i hate you." There is a lot of toxicity and hatred on this site.
This month a "suicide game" called Blue Whale came to international attention. Evidently, Blue Whale "involves brainwashing vulnerable teenagers for 50 days, urging them to complete tasks from watching horror movies to waking at strange hours, and self-harming.
Eventually exhausted and confused, they are told to commit suicide ..." The Russian man behind this is being held in jail "on charges of inciting at least 16 girls to kill themselves". I have nothing to add. This leaves me speechless.
In an ideal world my fourteen-year-old would have no technology; she'd be using pen, paper, a calculator and reference books like we used to.
Meanwhile, in the real world, her school requires her to have a laptop and, thanks to a momentary lapse of parental staunchness, she also has a smartphone.
There are rules. She's not allowed to take her smartphone upstairs at any time. The original rule with her laptop was that she must only use it downstairs in the same room as us.
But sometimes now she works upstairs where it is quieter. This worries me. Ostensibly she is doing homework but she could be doing anything.
This means that occasional stealthy inspections must be executed. I try to sneak undetected into the room in order to see the screen for myself.
These missions are seldom fruitful. All too often, she's anticipated my raid and I'm almost certain she's quickly flicked to a homework-related page. Or maybe it's just my suspicious mind.
Sometimes I call out to her: "You're not on ask.fm, are you?" This is the start of a familiar inquisition that usually continues as follows:
Me: "You know that 'eleven-year-old girl' you're chatting to is really a sixty-year-old man in a tutu, don't you?"
Daughter: "Yes, Mum. I do." Her tone is weary by now. She's heard it all before
Perfect. We have neatly covered both cyber-bullying and online stranger danger. See how I did that? My work is done. (Don't worry. I don't understand the tutu reference, either.)
Anyway, that's an old routine. We haven't gone through that little charade for months now. I've almost given up. Quite honestly, I don't know how you'd keep anyone safe online if they were intent on seeking out danger.
It's ironic that no sooner did we witness the rise of the "cotton wool kids" (who are mollycoddled by overprotective parents fearful about their children climbing trees and playing bullrush) than we discovered where the real threats lie.
Teenagers and children are thrown to the cyber-sharks every day. No amount of cotton wool will keep them safe there.
So where are the answers? The answers lie, of course, in education (of the children and the parents) about online threats and their ever-shifting nature. But, more fundamental than that, it's also about raising sensible, empathetic children with an interest in keeping themselves and others safe.
All parents would like to think they're managing to do that but I don't think any of us can feel certain our children are immune from making mistakes or of "falling in with the wrong crowd". (Or worse, what if our own child ends up being the "wrong crowd"?)
I'm sure that anyone who hasn't parented a teenager will just say we need to know what they're doing online at all times. Gosh, what a great idea. We'd never have come up with that for ourselves.
Now all we need to know is how to implement this plan when the teenagers are away from home for at least eight consecutive hours every weekday and free wifi is available almost everywhere.
If you invent a solution to that conundrum, you could bottle it and make a fortune.