My family is full of sports fans. We watch everything: Football, baseball, basketball and even a little ice hockey.

If it’s a game and someone’s keeping score, we’re there. Shoot, I’ve killed entire afternoons watching the weirdly addicting game of curling. 

Our love of sports is the reason we have a way-too-big TV that blocks an entire window in our living room.

My 4-year-old granddaughter has grown up in this sports-drenched atmosphere and was hyped for last night’s Super Bowl. 

Dressed in her Von Miller 58 jersey - her dad’s a Broncos fan - she settled in with the rest of us for one of the biggest nights in sports. Her parents told her she could stay up to see the halftime show.

In retrospect, that was a mistake. The girl pays attention.

She watched intently through Fox’s moving video set to Johnny Cash’s 1974 version of a “Ragged Old Flag,” part of Fox’s patriotic pre-game show.

And Demi Lovato hadn’t gotten past “… see,” in the first line of the National Anthem when the kid with a slight tendency toward bossiness was surveying the adults in the room.

“Put your hands on your hearts, everyone,” she ordered, as she stood in front of the TV, her right hand on her jersey.

Hey, she goes to Tides games. She knows exactly what to do when “The Star Spangled Banner” plays.

She was on her feet again when the halftime show started. There’s not much she likes more than dancing.

There was dancing all right,  But nothing like her ballet class.

If Shakira and Jennifer Lopez are sharing the stage you know you’re going to get some sexy moves. And our little ballerina watched wide-eyed as the high-energy, nearly-naked duo shook their well-toned derrieres and pole danced.

Look, I’m not a prude. In fact, I’m a fan. These ladies can dance. And in their 15 minutes on stage they redefined what it means to be a middle-aged woman.

Five years ago I would have thoroughly enjoyed the show. But watching with a kid in the room?

Changes everything.

That J-Lo crotch shot? Right into the camera? C’mon, this is the Super Bowl, not Vegas.

At the risk of sounding like an over-protective grandmother - which I’m not — a scantily clad woman sliding coochie first into the camera was something I’d prefer my favorite kid not see. Not yet, anyway. She’s just learning what it means to be female. And we’re hoping she never sees stripping as a career choice.

The first rule of entertainment is KYA - know your audience.

Lots of kids watch the Super Bowl. NFL honchos know that. 

Crotch rubbing, twerking and dueling derrieres have their place. But it’s not on the 50-yard-line at halftime.

There, I said it. 

Feel free to OK Boomer me.