Sex In The Tudors, White Queen, and Turn

I hate NetFlix. Before we discovered it, when we had no cable, I watched one TV show a week, The Good Wife, and that only when I was recovering from foot surgery. Other than that, the TV went on for important sports events,  Judy Woodruff, and PBS Kids. 
If you were stuck doing nothing all day, as I was with de-feet, it was Sesame Street or reading or the dubious morality play of Judge Judy, with her sadistic little sermons aimed at poor people with little money and less education. 



Now, half the time we find ourselves parked in front of NetFlix, binge washing. Yes, I could develop the spine to cut it off. But then, what will I do while I fold my laundry? Watch PBS Kids? I could observe Caillou for home decor--I love its bold sense of color--but really. He's four years old and still has no hair? 




Hence The Tudors, The White Witch and Turn, three TV series filled with egregious, unnecessary, glorified violence and, in the case of the first two, questionable sex scenes. I will make certain that none of my children watch any of them, primarily because of the sex. 






Because in all three of these series, there are only two kinds of sex.

1) The kind where Good Women get grabbed by or grab their men (Good or Bad) and have at it with not a single second of foreplay--because these women and men are, somehow, instantly ready every time. 

or 



2) The kind of sex that Bad Women have with Bad Men--and sometimes Bad Guy Victims. Only here, the foreplay is playful and languorous, full of giggles and pauses for more extended silly play. Clearly, both parties are enjoying the fun. (Here, the actress turned spy, Philomena, flirts with turncoat Continental General Charles Lee.)


Why do only the Bad Women get to flirt, take their time and have fun? It's incredibly unfair and not something I wish my children to imbibe as the normal state of things. 

Not that I plan to plant them in front of TV for their sex ed lessons, but the world being the way it is, they are likely to get exposed to this stuff, the way my oldest learned swear words on the last day of first grade (really, Sammy Nesmith, you couldn't have waited one day?) Or the way the kids were introduced to first person shooter games while on a playdate. Or--well, you get the idea. 

I guess this means another slightly awkward conversation with an adolescent. Sometime soon.

Back to folding laundry. Sigh.