The AARP has finally figured out a way to deter all those crazy tweens from sexting their chastity away: Inform them that a bunch of totally old people are doing it, too. In the November issue Online at AARP.org, reporter Jessica Leshnoff interviews a handful of first-name-only seniors who admit to sending photos of their boobs to other old people through text messages.

There's Roger, the 59-year-old divorcé who need only tell a date that she has "amazing breasts" to be rewarded with an unsolicited photo of them. There's Jill, 50, who suggests sexting dirty thoughts while "sitting in a restaurant waiting for your food . . . and no one knows what you're doing." And then there's sexting-skeptical Richard, 66, who received a sext while "with a group of colleagues after hours at a restaurant," and "surprised himself by being less than thrilled."

These aging sexters have got a good half-century on the subjects of most sexting paranoia pieces, but their story is the same. The "old people are sexting" trend story operates under the same premise as the teenage sexting story. Find a group the public doesn't enjoy considering being sexually active (minors, the elderly). Reveal that they are sexually active. Then, add technology—the second-scariest topic next to sex— and voilà—something else for David Brooks devotees to clutch their pearls over.

The AARP isn't slut-shaming the elderly here, but it does insert a good deal of skepticism into the piece. After all, it wouldn't be a "sexting" article without a degree of alarm. Elder sexting can't be policed through the traditional avenues—you can't ground them, and you can't threaten to slap them with absurd child pornography charges. But surely, there must be some way to convince old people that sending dick photos may not be the way to spend their lunch hour? "But beware, the experts warn," Leshnoff writes. "Sexting has its dangers, too, especially when it comes to people in the dating world."

Those dangers? "False advertising." "Too much, too soon." "Not everyone likes receiving a sexually charged text." Someone could steal them and put them on the Internet. And in a sick twist of fate: "the possibility of your teenage kids innocently flipping through your texts." The article ends on a downer, via Richard: After actually receiving the money shot, "It was like the fun kind of went out of it," he says.

But despite the pitfalls, the AARP has recognized that old people will probably send photos of their genitals anyway, so we may as well help them sext safely. Their tips: Slowly transition from "I still want to go to the prom with you" to "Forget chocolate, I am craving the taste of you!" Take care to periodically delete nude texts every once in a while. And always remember to "keep expectations based on sexting in check."

I really like that. Our culture has a tendency to infantilize men and women "of a certain age," and that includes treating their sex lives as either an unspoken taboo or an inflated cause for concern. I get it: My parents get AARP magazine, and I don't want to think about them giving these sexting tips a text ride, either (except for the part where they delete the evidence). And the idea of my grandmother sending a perfectly chaste text message is hilarious to me. That being said, aging can present some pretty specific challenges to a person's sex life—and, like with teens, the worst we can do is refuse to talk about it.

Photo via Ethan Prater, Creative Commons Attribution License 2.0

Marie-Therese Connolly wrote a fascinating article in the Washington Post yesterday about the problem of determining sexual consent among dementia patients. Connolly tells the story of a 96-year-old woman who accused her longtime gardener of raping her. The woman, who suffered from dementia, regularly wrote notes to herself as reminders of what's happening in her life. In one note, she reminded herself that she had had sex:

She posted scores of notes throughout the house to remember other details of life. "Cut toenails" and "take medication" read notes in her bathroom. And in the kitchen: "Cook the food [daughter-in-law] brought over."

But the notes that detectives later found in her home contained other, more complex reminders: Thur jan 8 2:40 pm sitting on side of bed. Thinking of [the gardener] and how I love him and it is returned. Friend love.

And: think it is Tues, Jan 12 9:15 PM can't think what has happened has happened. [The gardener] is unbelievable Is all a dream so much sex! sex! sex! Wonder what will happen next. Think he comes on Tuesdays. Help! . . .

By the time the woman began speaking with investigators, her memory of the event had drastically changed. And it kept changing:

On Jan. 14, the woman told her daughter-in-law that the gardener had "taken liberties" with her the previous day; on the evening of Jan. 15, she said he had raped her. On Jan. 16, she told authorities that he had thrown her on the floor of her house and raped her and that she had fought for her life. She forgot who the detective was three times during a 15-minute interview.

Another note reveals how the woman's perception of the incident changed as the hours passed:

Wed 1/14 it's 11:30 — I called and it is Wed. am upset about [the gardener]. I want the regime to go back the way it was. Don't know should I call him or not think about it and call some time today. 2:15 sitting by phone I am so full of remorse I couldn't sleep. I want things to go back to it the was every was in the beginning. You just came in for a glass of wine after cleaning up the yard mowing etc. Things got way out of hand & I feel terrible.

Page Ulrey, the "elder-abuse prosecutor" assigned to the case, was not tasked with determining whether the woman had verbally consented to sex. That much was fairly easy to determine: an investigation of the incident showed no sign of a struggle, and the gardener, who submitted to a polygraph test, told investigators that "the woman had been telling him for weeks that she was attracted to him and desired to be with a man."

What Ulrey did have to determine was whether the woman could legally consent to sex, ever. When asked about the woman's mental state, the gardener said "he considered her a close friend and a healthy person with short-term memory problems but that 'a lot of times she remembers things she thinks she'll forget.'" In this case, the woman's short-term memory problems turned an initially positive encounter into a horrific lasting memory. But does that mean that she should be barred from having sex with anyone, under any circumstances? And that any man who slept with her would be subject to prosecution?

In the end, Ulrey decided not to prosecute the case because pursuing it would effectively rob the woman of her right to have sex: "we realized that by prosecuting this case, we would in effect have to take the position that the woman was incapable of providing consent."

It's telling that even in the initial, positive note she wrote about her sexual experience, the 96-year-old woman cries out for "Help!" The sexual consent challenges faced by the elderly are important—and largely ignored. Unlike typical questions of consent—those involving intoxicated people, or underage teenagers—a patient with dementia who is deemed a victim will remain a victim until death. And because our culture hates to think about old people having sex, it's important to recognize that elderly people can desire and pursue sex. As a result, as Connolly notes, the relative silence around elder sexuality extends to sexual assaults against the community. She writes: "Previously, most prosecutors wouldn't go near cases involving witnesses or victims with dementia. According to a recent National Institute on Aging-funded study of sexual abuse in care facilities, police agencies nationwide declined to arrest 32 individuals even though state authorities had evidence, including positive rape kits, victim disclosures and eye witnesses, that they had committed sexual assault."

Since Grandma is not supposed to be a sexual person, no one wants to believe that she can consent to sex, and no one wants to believe that anyone would sexually assault her. Discussing the bedroom habits of your elderly relatives may be uncomfortable, but it's important—if they need help cooking dinner, cleaning the house, or pulling weeds, chances are they could use some help navigating their end-of-sex-lives, too. Recognizing that the elderly lead sexually active lives won't resolve the problems that surround consent as the mind recedes into old age. But it might help the elderly, their caregivers, and their potential sex partners openly discuss issues of consent well before the memories of the act begin to fade.