Teacher, Boobs, Crush (I knew that would get your attention)

I have a crush on one of Vaughn’s teachers. Granted, he was probably still breastfeeding when I was getting my driver’s license …oh wait…give me a moment…Teacher Hottie breastfeeding…Okay. I’m done. Hey! I’m married, not dead (though the two bear some striking resemblances at times). Anyway, that’s my nickname for him: Teacher Hottie (partly because he’s hot and partly because I can never remember his name). Whenever I see him, I get all tingly and flustered, and I transform into this inarticulate, twitter-painted, infatuated teenager, and the best thing I can ever squeak out whenever I have the good fortune of encountering him is a breathy, “Hi,” while my 6-year-old perkily greets him, “Hello, Mr. B.” Dave, of course, is well aware of this crush, having that strange H. family anomaly of lacking the jealousy gene, and will listen at length as I opine the hotness of young Teacher Hottie. In Dave’s ever practical mind, as long as it doesn’t lead to playing squish and squeeze, my Teacher Hottie crush is his gain. Now…back to Teacher Hottie breastfeeding…