Man-Candy Movies

I am an unrepentant consumer when it comes to movies. And pretty men. This morning, Girlchild insisted we watch a movie. I'd had roughly 33 seconds of sleep, so I agreed, and we headed down to the TV room. She was amped up to watch The Avengers. But I really wanted to nap while she enjoyed a comic book movie. So I picked Captain America instead.

Here's the thing: All of the Avengers are H-O-T. Ridonkulously so. If it weren't that my heart totally belongs to Thor (another time, I will explain why Chris Hemsworth would not have been my casting choice), I would totally join S.H.I.E.L.D. simply for the potential of bumping into any of the other Avengers in the hallway of the Helicarrier. Even Black Widow. Tony Stark? Yes Please! Bruce Banner? Absolutely! Hawkeye? Indeed! Coulson? Mmmhmm! Dang, sorry, I didn't mean to full on body-check and grope you in the hallway, lads. Even Captain America is delicious.

But I've never understood Cap. Dreamy though he is, he is this ultra-patriotic superhero that is supposed to represent all that is good about America. Problem? I am not American, so some of it rings thin. So of all the Avengers, he was my least favourite.

Let's go back to today, when I'd had next to no sleep and desperately wanted a nap. I plugged in the DVD, settled Tadpole Jones on my chest and dozed through the first 10-15 minutes, then woke up because Girlchild didn't remember that she was supposed to let me nap and had to ask something vitally important to the ongoing continuation of the human species ('What are we having for breakfast?').

Then I got engaged because if nothing else, Cap is an underdog who ultimately wins big. As a kid who was bullied all through school, I have a fondness for the underdogs of the world. At any rate, I nodded off again for a few minutes after his big transformation, and the sweaty chest reveal.

I have ALWAYS had really vivid dreams. So when I fall asleep watching TV, I often find myself dreaming of what I was watching. It should come as no surprise that I totally started dreaming about Captain America. And snuggling. When another question of U.N. Security Council importance caused Girlchild to wake me up ('What are we doing today? Is it lunchtime?'), I was right in the middle of enjoying a very prolonged snuggle, and Cap wasn't wearing his uniform. Nom.

But instead of the warm embrace of the Captain... I awoke to this:

Only he was on my chest. Drooling.

Don't get me wrong. That wee little man is one of the greatest things in the world. And his sister is pretty awesome too. But it took me a moment to reorient myself to my basement, and the harsh reality of my sweet 5 week-old boy keeping me up all night, and my sweet 6 year-old girl preventing me from napping, so for a moment I thought maybe Cap was drooling on me.

"Hey Girl. It's not me drooling on you. Two words: vice versa."

So yeah. Maybe Cap might be moving up the Man-Candy pyramid. At least until I can get some sleep. Because he's a lovely snuggly nap-time buddy. And he doesn't drool. Much.