I liked the "Fifty Shades of Grey" books. Yep. Haul out the rope, burn me at the stake, I liked the books. Were they racy? Indeed. Were they for adult eyes? Absolutely. Did I emerge from reading them wishing that my husband would toss on some jeans and beat me senseless? No.
I'm a little confused about the sheer ferocity of the outcry against first the books, and now of course, the movie. After all, there's been some racy material to hit the screen before. There was a movie marketed towards children that featured a 14 year old girl living with several unmarried men before being poisoned and taken advantage of by royalty. Yep. Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. I plan to have a long, in-depth discussion with my daughter about not living with strange men, taking produce from strangers, and of course, some self-defense moves for when a Prince tries to plant one on you when you're unconscious.
Here's my take on it: You don't need to tell your 5 year old about 50 Shades of Grey. Seriously. Did your parents talk to you about 9 1/2 Weeks? No? Mine either. Guess what? I've still never seen it. Wild Orchid? Nope. I didn't even know that last one existed until I hit up Google.
If you want to read it, see it, experience it - go for it. Don't drag your kids into it.
