I have never seen my parents naked. Even though I was born in the 70s, my parents are the anti-hippies and I'm okay with that. Actually, I'm kind of grateful and their relative prudishness didn't translate into any weird hang ups in me (right? right?).
KC and I have a semi-defined policy on family nudity. Our kids have seen us naked, but we're never going to head over to Brighton Bush with them for some nude hot spring action. When Sophie was very little, she'd get in the shower with us—KC included—until the day she said, "Hey! You have a banana!". Then KC decided that a little privacy was in order. Sophie has learned not to barge in when he's in the shower. Ava not so much.
I, on the other hand, have zero privacy. Maybe it's because they're girls, or maybe it's because I'm too lazy to demand it. Anyway, they see me naked on a regular basis and 99% of the time it's uneventful. However...
(I am in my closet, putting on my bra. Ava walks in.)
Ava: (pointing) Those your boobies?
Me: Yes.
Ava: Why?
Me: Why what? Why are they my boobies?
Ava: Why they touch your tummy?
I could go into an explanation here about childbirth and nursing, but I don't want to lay blame. That said, I'm now collecting funds for the Mara Friedman Saggy Tits Foundation.
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