The Santa Clause is a heartwarming family classic starring Tim Allen as a divorced dad who legit murders Santa. It was my family's go-to holiday movie for years.
I was only three years old when The Santa Clause was first released, but at some point in my early adolescence that annual re-watch started to make me feel tingly things.
I felt these things for one reason and one reason only: little David Krumholtz in his breakout role as Bernard the Elf.
There was something captivating about Bernard. Maybe it was his sleepy dark eyes.
Maybe it's because he had teeny dreads that seemed like fun to play with.
Maybe it's because he was kind of an asshole, which is a romantic identity I have never had a problem with.
In any case, the result was the same. Bernard was my first real childhood crush.
I remember having tween fantasies about snuggling up in Santa's sleigh.
Even now as an adult* woman with romantic preferences, I fully admit that my type is best described as "literally (not figuratively) David Krumholtz as Bernard the Elf."
I have recently learned that I am not alone in this predilection for Bernard.
A lot of people cite him as the leading man of their childhood fantasies.
Like, a lot:
And I must admit that after all this time, it's validating to see that I wasn't the only one who got all shook up by his elfin charms.
Sometimes I think that my very specific attractions are weirder than everyone else's. They are not.