Three are in the shower, three in the pool, and one’s gone home. She [again] didn’t feel comfortable with the sexually-infused banter of normal hormone-pulsing teen talk and the touchy-feely pushing-the-limits of truth or dare. And now, (I’m laughing as I type), they are all in the shower. Five girls, two guys, all in their bathing suits, a throbbing mass of laughter and hands shampooing someone else’s hair. I sip my lemon water, chew of this bowl of mixed dried fruits and nuts, and feel so unalarmed by my daughter’s budding sexuality and the openness of her relationships (I love her friends!) but got extremely unnerved by my now-teenage son watching some cartoon of two police men beating a baby and the mother to death and laughing.