"What am I? Am I invisible or something?"
He doesn't listen, he doesn't see her, one eye is covered. Paul has decided on his dinner, on the menu, while his wife was speaking. And then he remembers to wonder what they're meeting about. "I caught Adam watching porn... I talked to him. It sucked. Like the girl in the video, on multiple penises. And Adam did not appreciate my informative commentary."
Paul Jamison is mystified by his wife Cathy, sometimes. It's never the same thing twice. "Did you just say that you watched porn with our son?" She buries her head in her hands, unable to look at the world; she covers both eyes. Has she scarred their son, for life? Possibly, probably. And then when he'd run away, she'd opened up his browser history, and seen all the sites he'd visited. Paul explains that the internet is basically a highly complex pornography distribution stream, on which the rest of the internet is kindly granted a piggyback ride; one can Google "sex" and, as with anything else one Googles, find sex on the internet.
That word sex, just the word, sends Cathy Jamison spinning again because it is another word that just became more than theoretical, or something grownups do: If Adam is capable of masturbation, and surely he is -- enthusiastically capable, one assumes, enduringly, capable of feats and rigors most adults would have to nap just from hearing about -- then Adam is, of course, capable of sex. In theory. But if a world of unending porn is not appropriate for children, then fucking fucking sure as hell can't be.
"He's fourteen, he's not having sex. I think the larger issue here is that you watched porn with our son when you never would with me." One pirate's eye glints; the other is hidden. Cathy explains that she avoids pornography because it objectifies and degrades; Paul presumes that some women might enjoy, occasionally, being seen as sexual objects. Proving multiply functioned; beauty and attraction as skills without inherent meaning, as functions that do not provide inherent meaning.
"That is such bullshit male logic," she says, but he says this is a Cathy thing. "The idea that somebody would actually invite that kind of attention is completely foreign to you." One eye covered and one eye staring, the pirate shifts their ship's direction drastically, dramatically: "...And I need to honor that. I need to honor that, and I do. It's not in your nature to be in the center of anything. You're more of a nurturing, behind-the-scenes type of person. And I support the texture of your feelings."