Puppy Love

While reading Nessa's post about her 8-year-old son's Secret Love, I thought of an amusing story of "puppy love" from my childhood. I was in first grade and a mature and determined 6-year-old.

I can't quite remember when I first saw Ricky*; it could have been out on the playground, it could have been during reading but most likely it was during math. I never liked math so I didn't pay much attention to the scratches of the chalk on the blackboard or the droning of the nun's voice. This could have been the time when my eyes roamed the expanse of classroom and settled on something a lot more interesting...Ricky.

Oh honey let me tell you, to my 6-year-old eyes he was sooooo cute! He was taller than the other boys with curly black hair, dark eyes, and cafe au lait skin. I was smitten, and determined that he would be mine! I'm not sure I knew what that meant, but whatever it meant that's what I wanted. I hatched a plan, my little feminine wiles hard at work; every day when recess was over we had to line up in height order, boys on one side, girls on the other and the boys would pass us as they went into the classroom. That's when I would make my move.

Now, I need to take a minute here to tell you, I didn't have a move as such, but Ricky made my tummy feel funny and my face feel hot. Something had to be done! The next day when recess ended, the boys lined up on one side and the girls on the other side; I looked across the way and there was Ricky towards the end of the line. I got that funny feeling in my tummy again and the line started moving; he was walking closer to me but not looking in my direction, there was a sort of pressure, a compulsion to DO something and as he was almost in front of me, I jumped out and kissed him on the cheek!

Once I committed the act, all the adrenaline left my body; I could hear laughter and sounds of that sing-song "ooooooooooo" from the kids around me. Ricky stood in front of me for a split second, his face as red as if it had been slapped, and then he was gone. I was embarrassed; this was not what I'd planned and the rest of the day everyone whispered about what I'd done. Ricky spent the rest of the year avoiding me and left the school in the second grade.

Surprisingly enough Ricky and I ended up attending the same high school, but the magic was gone.

I met Ricky's wife at my thirty year high school reunion last year; somehow we just gravitated towards each other and hit it off immediately. Once she told me who she was, I told her my story and she laughed heartily. Ricky, now Rick, walked up as I was relating my tale; he was gracious enough to blush. Some things never change.

*name changed