Middleagedmum.com: a middleaged crush

Middleaged crush
is it just me, or do the opportunities for harmless flirting and fantasy crushes get less and less the older one gets? Gone are the days of fancying the post boy or lovely man that makes your lunchtime sandwich (or coffee, see Amanda's previous post). I now look at attractive young men with motherly affection and think how proud their mums must be. 

Sadly when one gets past 40, unless you are Madonna, Sam Taylor Wood or a porn star, you become invisible to younger men. You can try to charm them with your witty banter and vast knowledge of popular culture/literature/music etc etc, but you can guarantee they will be only half listening, and their eyes will be fixed on the younger, firmer 20 something behind you. 

It really doesn't bother me any more and it amuses me to walk down the street with my lovely teenage daughter and see the approving looks she gets. Like me in my younger days, she gets furious when men eye her up. Oh how youth is wasted on the young!!

These days my crushes are firmly focused on fantasy figures, who I have no chance of ever meeting, let alone snogging (God forbid, what's that all about!!). There really is nothing like a crush on a character from a soap opera, as they are there, several times a week, in your living room, for you to enjoy, without ever having to have a conversation or pick up their dirty socks. Probably the perfect relationship!!

The recent election fueled my latest obsession –  Alastair Campbell. It seemed every time I turned on the television, there he was, all alpha male and Northern, full of sarcastic gruffness. Gorgeous, but God, I bet he's a nightmare to live with. Maybe that's the problem, the older you get the more you realise that the fantasy always turns to reality and no matter how gorgeous Hugh Grant is, he probably can't construct Ikea furniture or change a plug. Just as Javier Bardem probably cooks the most amazing Tapas and could take your breath away with his passion, but could potentially be moody and self indulgent. 

Is it me or are real life crushes too much like hard work? Who can be bothered, I think I'll stick to spending four nights a week with Jack Branning. What's not to love?

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