The mother of another pre teen Spice Girls' fan relives her Valentine's Day trauma and wonders: was it Aoife's card she opened, or Pandora's box?

"WOULD YOU post this for me?" Aoife asked. "It's a Valentine card for Fionnan," she volunteered.

"Certainly," I replied, and put the unsealed card in my bag.

I have since asked myself if the fact that it was unsealed was significant. Did she want me to open it and stop it being sent - or am I, like her, watching too many soap operas?

Fionnan is one of 16 boys in her class who have all been "out" with Aoife. I am not sure if any of them are aware of this; in fact, I am very much doubt it.

The boys in her class seem to be interested solely in kicking footballs around the schoolyard, while she and her pals spend their time trying out different types of nail varnish and doing their best to look like characters out of the Australian soap, Heartbreak High.

With my hand on my heart, I swear I have never done this before, but I opened my child's private correspondence.

In my own defence, I argue I did the right thing. What would have happened if Fionnan's mother had seen it? I shudder.

For what was written on the card was the most explicit sexual message - words that would make a seasoned clubber blush.

"You are over reacting," said the son of 17.

But am I? I took the Mary Whitehouse role and refused to post it.

And in my most solicitous and gentlest manner, I told Aoife that it was quite "unseemly", "unwomanly" and "downright disgusting".

"How dare you read my private correspondence?" she thundered.

I had to sit on my hands to stop myself giving her a clout. She was playing a tape of her favourite group, the Spice Girls. Listening to 2 Become 1, I heard the lyrics: "I wanna make love to you, baby", then "Get it on, get it on", and then "Put it on, put it on".

"Do you know what they are singing about it?" I asked tentatively.

"Yep, don't you?"

What has happened? Surely her sexual awakening is not happening at 11?

So far, my sexual instruction to her has been that everything is much better if one waits. I've missed the boat. The Spice Girls are doing the job I should have done.

So I plan an early night and sit on the side of her bed for a "chat".

"Why don't you wear sexy nightdresses?" she says, eyeing my tired and faded t shirt.

"Let's plan your birthday," I say, desperate to change the subject.

"I want a girls' night out to a disco," she says, "and I'll need new hipsters and a belly top."

I am baffled and bewildered. Her two older brothers were never like this. What is now ahead of me?

The complexity of the mother daughter relationship is about to be embarked upon.

Why did I open that card?