Crushing

I've been a fan of crushes ever since I was three years old, got my first crush on my sister's best friend, and got in trouble for wrestling with him at my babysitter's house. (He was just so darn cute, how could I be expected to keep my hands off him?) From there, I went on to have an illustrious crush career, encompassing older men, younger men, men of all colors, famous men, and fictional men. Whether or not you're in a relationship, I think a little crush is healthy and helps to put some spice into life.

My co-worker, Madame B, is a fan of the Dad Crush. She likes to have handsome dads volunteer in the classroom and, while the kids are busy doing work, takes a few minutes to flirt with them. Sometimes she even lures the attractive fathers of MY students into her room, since they have to pass by her door to get to mine. But because I'm easily embarrassed, the Dad Crush doesn't work for me, despite having quite a few good-looking dads in my class. I once had a sex dream about a dad (NOT an attractive one -- I really don't know where it came from), and it was so traumatic I couldn't look at either the mom or the dad for weeks. Sometimes it was even hard for me to look at their daughter.

Instead, I like to focus my crush energy on my yoga instructor, Grant. He's the perfect crush: handsome, chiseled, cute butt, wonderful personality, I don't have a chance in hell with him, and I can stare at him all I want during out two-hour yoga class without seeming weird. Occasionally he tells a story during his opening monologue about his girlfriend, and I just tune him out or pretend he's talking about his pet dog. (Turns out his pet dog has a lot of physical issues related to giving birth to two puppies.)

A couple of months ago, Dreamy decided to start coming to yoga class with me. He immediately took a shine to Grant, and stayed after class asking Grant all kinds of questions about different poses. Then, one day I let slip that I think Grant isn't bad-looking, which completely floored Dreamy. I told him he needed to get his eyes checked, because even if you're a heterosexual male you'd have to be blind not to notice how attractive Grant is. Later, I casually mentioned that I sometimes try to look up Grant's shorts while he's helping me with my wheel pose (never with any success, unfortunately).

A few days after my accidental revelations, Dreamy announced that he's giving up yoga for the time being -- possibly because of a shoulder injury, his purported motive, or maybe he didn't want to get in the way of my crush. I have mixed feelings; having Dreamy come along made it a lot easier to make it to my 10 a.m. Sunday yoga class instead of lolling around in bed, but couples who do yoga together do make me feel slightly nauseous. (Almost as bad as couples who do pottery together, an idea that Dreamy also once brought up.) Plus it was embarrassing to ogle Grant with Dreamy next to me, and Dreamy's feelings were hurt when I suggested he move his mat down a few spaces.