Interesting, interesting

My father and stepmother are in town this week, part of a series of family/friend visits we're enjoying this month that began with trips from LittleBrother and BigMother. (Yes, Mom, that's you.) It's a great opportunity to show the people we love this place that we're quickly coming to love, as well as assure them that Portland isn't so different -- despite all the hippies and lefties and anarchists and, perhaps worst of all, The Gays -- than the rest of the country. But it's reminding me of a fascinating psychological soap opera playing out with The Boy, his tendency to gravitate toward men.

Maybe it's got something to do with having two mommies -- hmm, that wasn't hard to figure out, was it? -- but the kid loves the menfolk. He's still talking about LittleBrother, even though my younger sibling was only in town for a total of three days stretched over two weekends. And he ADORES my father. This is what we hear, on average of two or three times a day, "Want Pop! Want Pop! Want Pop!" Usually, if we put him on the phone with relatives, he babbles or whines or ignores the phone itself and plays with the cord instead. But when it's my dad, he clutches the phone to his ear and gives everyone else in the room the stare that means, "Quiet, I'm trying to listen here!"

If my dad is reading the paper, The Boy wants to read the paper. If my dad is napping, The Boy wants to nap. If my dad is in the bathroom . . . you get the idea.

Anybody have any theories here? You think we're doing permanent damage by raising him without a solid, 24/7 male role model? Besides our not-quite-male dog, I mean.