The Naked Truth

I was already in bed when my cell phone buzzed.  It was Hillary, letting me know she would be late coming home and updating me on her night class...Figure Drawing.
"So, how's it going?" I asked.
"Oh, we started on our life sized drawings tonight." she replied. "The model is a really TALL guy.  He's like 6 foot 5 or something."
And then it got interesting.
"Did he have clothes on?" I wondered aloud, knowing this was the class she had been dreading since her first day in college.
"Nope," she chirped.  "Naked as a jay bird."
I burst out laughing.
She continued, "I was hoping I'd get the back.  But no such luck.  I'm on the side towards the front.  I leaned over to the girl next to me and said, 'Great, look what we get to draw'."
I was guffawing.
She seemed to be taking it all in stride.
We've always been fairly open about body parts around here.  In my opinion, the more matter-of-fact you can make things, the less mysterious forbidden appeal they have.  No silly "wee-wees" or "kitty cats" in our family.  We used the correct anatomical names for everything.  We even had a family discussion once about the plural form of the word "penis".
I'm very PC.
Until...the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit edition showed up in our mailbox today.  I flipped through it and promptly hid it in a stack of Oprah magazines by my bed that I was sure Parker would never touch.  This was mild compared to what I did to Hubby's first Swimsuit edition the first year we were married.  THAT glossy little magazine was reduced to shreds by my kitchen scissors.
Anyway...I digress.
So why does it bother me more for my 16 year old son to gawk at mere pictures of a woman than it does for my 20 year old daughter to study the folds of a real live man?
I have no idea.
Maybe it's because she's an adult and he's a teenager with raging hormones.
Nah.
I think it's because the Swimsuit girls are a carefully crafted illusion, created to sell lies to my son.  The entire purpose is to hide flaws and embellish assets and make him reach for something that doesn't exist.  While the Art Model is human.  Real flesh and bone.  Hair, moles, and all.  The entire purpose is to see what's really there.
And besides....the One-Eyed Monster ain't pretty.  I doubt Hillary will be seduced.
Oops!  What was that I was saying about using proper names???
Anyway, the bottom line (no pun intended) is that I can't hide my children's eyes from everything.  I have to trust that they will make good decisions based on what we've tried to teach them.  And that they will feel comfortable enough to come to us for help if (or when) they don't.
And that's the naked truth.