that I have yet-to preserve-my-Immortality via a DNA-implant {{sniff}} thus miss so many such chances to be confounded.
Especially when I recall [tale ensues]

Once stayed overnight at a 'summer-escape' cottage with my then pre-SO and her parents.
(I camped out on the lawn overnight, listening to KSL Salt Lake AM radio--classical music--via atmospheric skip,
on a hearing-aid-size vacuum-tube equipped tiny AM radio / stars everywhere.)

Earlier, the father had motioned for silence, we tip-toed.. he cracked door to her bedroom, where M. lay asleep / angelic-faced and epitomizing adorable yout.
This while I pondered Not-asking, as any testosterone-crazed yout Would:
Pssst, got any naked pix of yer daughter? and the rest.
[Maybe the extremely-rare actual-Parent of such a one, would have enjoyed the humor, but not this 'White-Russian' escapee/émigré.. fershure..]

'Course I had no such pix, but in such matters I possessed the usual Photographic Memory as cannot be erased. Natch.
But they had no tattoos to worry about, then. Nor other sharp objects embedded--nor ...

Luck on your daughter [and You!] escaping the Next interesting Fad.
May she get her 15 min. of Fame / a Crowd-sourced windfall? / which she parlays into a career that does not rot her mind. Against the odds.