Today I had to ground my 3 year old from Google.
He figured out how to type things in there, in an attempt to find more violent and less educational games. This is not a battle I expected in this decade, but I'm up for it. I ended up removing the toolbar completely, to limit him to the 3 bookmarks I have on the bookmark bar. I don't expect it to work for long, he'll figure something out. He'll just maybe install a different browser, or something.
I fear I am raising a gamer. I planned on him being a rock star. Maybe a star athlete and rock star, with above average grades. Instead, he started teaching himself to read at 2 and mastered it by 3 1/2. He can't walk from one room to another without falling down, and he doesn't care for the outdoors. Oh, and his fashion is decidedly avant garde. When he was 5 pounds, I used to worry that someday he would chase women and drink someday. Now, I worry that he will hack the Pentagon's website or maybe start quoting Nietzsche. Or arguing the merits of socialism. He is brilliant and stubborn and awkward and charming. That's right. He is my dad.