Innocence lost?

I picked my boys up from school a few days ago. I could tell something was abuzz when I reached my older son's class. I saw him and a friend dash into the Boy's bathroom. A female classmate of theirs came up to me with a big smile. "I know why they ran into the bathroom," she said, her grin stretching ear to ear. "Why," I asked. "I'd rather not tell you," she answered, beaming.
When my son exited the bathroom, saw me, and got ready to go, I asked him, "why'd you run into the bathroom?" "The girls," he whispered almost fearfully, but clearly pleased as well, "they're writing notes about me." I asked about the notes. "You know," he said (as in 'you know, the usual stuff'). "They wrote that they wanted to marry me, that I was cute, that I'm cool. Stuff like that." Now, I've discussed earlier how I react to these situations between my son and his female classmates. I should, of course, be mortified. "In second grade," I should say, shocked. "Do these girls parents even know what they're doing!!!???!!!." But that is not how I react. No. I am, and believe me- I'm embarrassed to admit it, really proud. Instead of questioning whether these girls parents know what their girls are doing, I'm wondering if they know how money my son is. I am literally straining my facial muscles trying not to grin a stupid, proud grin. But then my son adds something to the story. A spicy tidbit that even has me, the model for inappropriately proud fathers, wondering if something askew is going on. "One girl wrote that I'm sexy," he said. Let the internal struggle begin. Of course, thoughts of 'what a stud my boy is' or 'now that is MONEY- no one has ever described me as sexy, definitely not in the second grade' are racing through my head. But other thoughts are there too. Disturbingly mature thoughts like "'sexy?' this is going too far; I need to call these girls' parents" or "I guess it's time to talk about the birds and bees; isn't this five years too early?"
Luckily, my oldest child, as if sensing the turbulent and conflicting thoughts inside my head, says something that completely eases the situation. "Dad, what does 'sexy' mean?" Phew, disaster averted. No need to make potentially embarrassing/buzz-kill phone calls, no need to have a talk about matters that shouldn't be discussed for half-a-decade. "It means you're handsome," I answer. A good answer. It leaves my son feeling good about himself, but in an age-appropriate way (sort-of, I know, work with me here). We then picked up my younger son from his class, and the conversation quickly turned to my younger boy's experience at recess where he and a friend pretended to be a puppy while another friend pretended to be the daddy-dog. Ah, there is still innocence in childhood.
Or is there? Upon arriving home, I sat with my younger son as he practiced his violin. After he was finished, he looked at me with a smile, a performer's smile, a conjurer's smile. Rotating his arms in a magician-like manner, he said, "Daddy, guess what I brought to school today?" "What?" I asked; honestly, I expected him to tell me about the TIntin book that he brought for sharing circle. "This," he said with a grand flourish. Extending his arm, he raised his sleeve slightly and removed a Lincoln Log (the type that he pretends are light sabers). "I had it all day," he says with an impish smile and what looks suspiciously like a wink. I guess kids are more mature, today. I certainly never successfully smuggled a would-be light-saber into my pre-K class.
So, my eight year-old is being called 'sexy' by his female classmates. My five year-old is bringing imaginative toys to school, keeping them concealed up his shirt's sleeve, and doing so successfully. Let's see: inappropriate talk between girls and my boy on the one hand, and successful deception of school-staff on the other. What to feel? Proud? Concerned? I think that I'll stick to my original conclusion. My boys are so money.