So, I've been thinking a lot about crushes.
I mean, I get it.
It's a crush.
It's not supposed to feel good, exactly.
It's more like that epic moment before orgasm, when you're perched at the edge of madness, writhing in agony, waiting for the bliss you're sure is coming. The problem with crushes is that their fate is more often like roses than firecrackers.
For example, a few weeks ago I couldn't sleep (no news there) so I went into the living room to browse the DVR and eat potato chips out of the bag (also not a shock). At random, I selected an MTV show called Awkward (research, obviously, since I write YA).
The show was pretty cute. Funny, too, if you like that kind of thing.
But that's not why I kept watching for ten hours straight until my children woke up demanding breakfast (please don't ever tell my husband that).
I kept watching because of this guy:
He's twenty-three and plays a sixteen-year-old. (Okay, twenty-four in January. . . Not that one year makes me less pervy, but at least he's legal. Sigh.) With that in mind, here's another photo from his shirtless stint on Desperate Housewives.
I know, right?
He totally wants me.
Anyway, here's my dilemma:
Obviously, we're meant to be together, but I have this rule, you see. I won't eroticize anyone for whom I could have concievably changed diapers. And this tasty snack of manness is twenty-three, ergo, well within babysitting limits for me.
I can't even look at him.
So, so wrong.
And yet. . . LOOK at him!
I keep waiting for the crush to do it's usual thing. . . wither like those grocery-store roses boys bring you on Valentine's day. And sure, so far it's decreased from drool-dripping, lip-biting, heart-thumping obsession to a mere crush.
But come on!
I need to sleep, okay?
I can't be stalking the DVR at all hours, waiting for MTV to re-run Awkward Second Season, Episode 3 so I can watch him take his shirt off again. (Admittedly, the fact that I made notes on this boy's shirtlessness is embarrassing in its own right. Don't tell hubs that either.)
So here's my new rule:
If I could have given birth to a boy, I can't eroticize him.
That opens up a lot of doors for me. I can still have Chris Pine, Joseph Gordon Levitt, Channing Tatum and Ian Somerhalder.
But now I get Beau Mirchoff, too.
Yeah, I'm sure you're all as relieved as I am.
Now, what about y'all?
Who are your dirty little crushes?