This is beyond screwed up. A nine-year-old boy isn’t sexually attracted to anything, much less the same sex. I have a son that age and the only thing he’s attracted to is dinosaurs, the iPad and Godzilla.

Via HuffPo:

I went to pick up my kids from school the other day, my usual 3 o’clock date with the playground. My eldest son’s teacher met me as I walked up, all atwitter with excitement. “We had some high-school seniors come in today to do some tutoring, and your son just really clicked with one of the boys,” she told me. “He just talked and talked to him, and they got along so well.” She knows just how painfully shy my son can be around new people and was just as happy as I was that he could find someone to interact with in a way other than hiding behind someone taller than he and sneaking glances around their torso.

“Let me guess,” I said. “Is this boy slim, dark-haired and very pretty?” Most people can’t talk to people they find attractive, but my shy, shy boy is the exact opposite.

“But… how did… how did you know that?” she asked.

I know what my 9-year-old son’s “type” of guy is. This is not something I expected to have knowledge of, not when my son was 9, and perhaps not ever. But that knowledge is in my brain anyway, and now I have to deal with it. And as much as it weirds me out, it is so cute to see him when the right kind of boy walks into his life.

And please stop your internal monologue: This has nothing to do with sex. My son is gay, but he is also 9, so he is not the “lustful cockmonster” (thank you for that turn of phrase, Chris Kluwe) that so many homophobes try to paint all gay people as. My son wants to play video games with these boys. Throw a football with them. Maybe hold their hand as they walk back from the park after throwing that football.

And another word on your internal monologue: My uncomfortableness has nothing to do with him being gay. It’s the fact that I know my son’s type that weirds me out. It wouldn’t make a difference if he were 23 years old and into cute Chinese ladies or hairy Hungarian honeys; knowing my son’s type is weird. Slim, fit, dark-haired boys with strikingly pretty faces just set his heart all aflutter. You can see it on his face, and it is cute, even if it makes me go all wiggy-giggy in the dad part of my brain.

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