I little while ago, G and I did some art re-arranging in our room and we put up a piece by one of our favorite local (or anywhere) artists:
My photo doesn’t do it justice, it’s bright and beautiful and happy, and I just love it. A few weeks ago, the boys were over and I asked GS2 if he wanted to go for a walk. He said yes, and followed me into the bedroom while I changed my shoes.
Now we don’t do a concerted effort to “de-gay” our house, but our bedroom is kind of off limits to the boys unless on of us is with them. GS2 was sitting on the bed while I tied my shoes and all of a sudden he asked, “Gramma, why do you have a picture of naked women on your wall?” It was bound to happen, right?
I decided on the age-appropriate answer and said, “Well, there are two reasons. One is that I love the colors of that piece.” He was looking at it quite a concentrated eye. He cocked his head to one side and said, “You’re right, it IS colorful.” (This is the boy who can’t wait to eat our local “colorful” eggs!).
Then I told him, “The other reason I have that up there is that I know the woman who drew it–Miss Jill. You met her a long time ago.”
“Oh,” he said, “I don’t remember, but she draws good. Are you ready to go for a walk now?”
And there you have it.