A few weeks ago I panicked. I rarely ever panic. I was sitting at the kitchen table, researching and writing. I usually sit facing the windows with my back to the room – kids playing and doing assignments behind me, often coming to ask questions every few minutes – math, handwriting assignments, the nature of Infinity Stones, monoglycerides…you know, life.

I typed what I thought was an innocuous inquiry into my search engine and was immediately blasted with a full page of hardcore pornography of the worst kind. My heart raced and I began to feel the heat of terror in my neck. I d­idn’t know what to do and the milliseconds ticked away. My first thought was of my kids playing behind me. Were they seeing this, or were they occupied? I couldn’t tell because I was turned the other way. My next thought was my wife. She was in the bathroom, also behind me. What would happen if she came out and saw my screen? Would she believe me when I told her it was an accident? So many times in years past it hadn’t been. What would happen now?The clock was ticking. It had been almost a full three seconds and I still wasn’t sure what to do. I saw a couple of the images before I bounced my eyes away – a tactic learned through hard experience. Should I close the page? My computer is notoriously slow to close pages. Back button? Minimize it? Where are the kids right now?