Mommy Complex and Jemaine Clement

Mommy Complex

I would like to take this moment to profess my love to Jemaine Clement: he is a God and everything he touches makes me jealous because I wish it were me that he were touching.

Just finished watching What We Do in Shadows, which is most possibly one of the best movies ever. It is so clever and funny, it makes me seriously wonder why the entire world isn't talking about it. But maybe the whole world was talking about it and I was just the last to know, which is usually the case for most other things.

Speaking of crushes and relationships that exist only in my head, a muscular little dude caught my eye at yoga the other week. Since then, we've been in a few Vinyasa classes together and shared a few words. In my head, we were flirting, but now that I think about it--he was probably just humoring that nice lady at yoga who could've been his mom.

We parked our cars at the same time and walked into class together the other night. As we rolled out our mats, I turned to him in my best casual voice and asked if he was just getting off work.

This is the best part: he says, "No, I'm on spring break so, just enjoying it."

As the pieces began to click together in my head--more like, slam together violently--I was forced to come to terms with quite a few things in that moment. A few things that would most likely shatter your confidence in the best of circumstances but remember, I was wearing spandex in a humid room with mascara possibly pooling black tears in my eyes.

The first thing being that I could go to prison and hell for the thoughts I was having about that young man.

Second, he was merely a college student, probably a junior or senior in high school, I was too afraid to ask. Third, and maybe the most disturbing, was this: the days of that theoretical "mom" reference, like "oh, if I'd had you at twelve, I could be your mom" were moving further and further away. I had sex at twenty. I could've legitimately been his mother.

I texted my friend Ashley and told her about my dilemma. She reminded me of the song Mommy Complex by Peaches, and now it plays over and over in my head whenever I see him.

Have you heard it? It's pretty great.

"...call me cradle robber baby, be my guest. And if you bring flowers, I like baby's breath. I'm gonna fill your mommy complex."