This summer, my then 8-year-old daughter, Emerson, experienced two important rites of passage. First, she became the object of a young man’s affection. This boy, whom we’ll call DG, had it bad for my moppet. So bad, in fact, that he asked if she had email, and told her that if she did NOT have email he’d make an email for her, so they could write … Continue reading It’s Called FaceTime for a Reason