More on that recent paramour later. Don't get excited; there's nothing to tell. It was only a work crush that passed unacknowledged and ended when the job ended.
Tonight, while ODing on Coldplay and liking it, I recognized that the band had done a cover of an excellent Echo and the Bunnyman song. "Lips Like Sugar," a song from the early 1980s that would have surely been a classic had anyone actually heard it, pounded from the stereo with the lush orchestration of a typical Coldplay song. Eliza, already dressed in her tutu and swimsuit top, sashayed with joy, cognizant of my newfound Coldplay, stuck-in-the-80s happiness. Facing her, I did the funky monkey (arms pedaling up and down like a jackhammer), the snappy sway (wiggling side to side while snapping my fingers), and the non-trampoline bounce (jumping up and down like an idiot). Every move I made, my daughter echoed with the sure steadiness of a miniature clone. Roaring into the funky monkey yet again, I started laughing wildly flattered by my daughter's apparent attempts to create a mirror image of Mama.
Eliza threw her head back, imitated my laugh, and pumped her arms up and down with the vigor of a steam engine. The song blared through the apartment and I remembered the early 80s, the fantastic boyfriend who'd introduced me to Echo and the Bunnyman, and felt overjoyed to share this moment and this Coldplay with my wonderful, wacky and utterly delicious daughter. I've said this so many times and I'm sure I'll continue to say it until Eliza hits the terrible tweens; this kid is the big love of my life. So many moments I spend with her are so great, so amazing I think I might implode from the inside from complete and devout happiness. How great is music and dancing and the joy of sharing the two with my love.
So this is me for now, relishing Coldplay and the lovely Eliza. Going back to that paramour, as I said it was really nothing. He was 26, fourteen years younger than myself, great-looking, smart, kind and totally interested in me. How lucky did I feel when a guy with that much going for him found all 40 years of me interesting. Back in April, I'd had the move-out date set and an apartment secured. I went to work deliriously happy, amazed that I could still feel that way about anyone. In the end though, I let it go, as did he. I'm a mother now and I've no room in my life for mindless flings. It was flattering, it was fun, but there's nothing more to add.
On the last night of a six day work week, he and I chose to spend our lunch hour sleeping in the video room. Nothing more happened, we simply slept on couches that were joined at the armrests in an L shape. We lay down, both knowing we were only a few inches away from actual contact. I lay there, my iPod blaring Coldplay in my ears, thinking this was closer to actual intimacy with an adult than I'd had in years. It felt sexy, daring, and enormously comforting all at the same time. When it was time to return to the real world, I sat up, pulled out the earphones and told him that we all need more Coldplay in our lives.