Thursday, January 06, 2011


Chago and his New Year's creampuff
 When I was 7 years old and in second grade, I kissed a boy.

Now, that in and of itself is not the point of this post, although you may be surprised (or not) by that tidbit of information.

I do think I remember who it was, but I don't trust my memory for anything, and, truth be told, I think it likely could've been one of at least two, maybe three, now that I think about it.  But that's a whole 'nother story.

So, I'm fairly certain it was on the playground of our elementary school, under the big slide.  We didn't have tanbark then. It was concrete gravel, or some other ungodly combination of knee-mutilating material.  But that, too, could be yet another embellishment of my actual reality.

What I do know for sure is that my being 7, and in second grade, and kissing someone for the first time, is a really really sweet (albeit foggy) memory for me.  And although I suck at the specifics of it, the FEELING of the memory is still so warm and comforting and home.

What I also know, though, is that hearing for the first time that my son has an official crush on someone in his class nearly gave me a fucking aneurysm today.

He was all giggly and giddy afterschool. Stealing secret moments with his sister, who was also blushing and sheepish and smiling from ear to ear. (This, people, is NEVER a good sign.)

We finally get to the truck and she says, "Mama, Santiago wants to tell you something." [giggle, giggle, snicker, giggle]
Saia with her New Year's creampuff

"What is it son?" I ask, turning up the radio and putting the truck into drive.

"Nothing," he grins, and covers his face.

"What's going on, pop?" I ask.

"I don't want you to get mad," he says.

I move the truck from drive to park, turn off the radio, and turn all the way around in my seat.

"Talk to me, boy."

So, he proceeds to tell me, between chuckles and hand-over-mouth, that his latest best friend (a recent transfer from L.A.) finally confessed her true full-fledged affection for him.

And as he's already prepped me with the thinking that I might be mad comment earlier...clearly, I can't now be mad. (I know, I know, he's a freaking genius.)  So, I put on my best I'm-listening-as-objectively-as-I-possibly-can face, and he spills it.

"What did you tell her?" I ask.

"That I felt the same way about her," he said. My heart fell on the floor and dissolved into a million water droplets.

"So..." I begin, knowing I reeeeeaaallly didn't want to know any more, but finding it utterly impossible not to ask, "where were you guys when you had this discussion?"

"Well," he begins, and his sister is just g-r-i-n-i-n-g, "she asked me to walk with her by the lake."


"The lake," Saia intervenes. "It's really just an oversize puddle in the play yard off to the corner in the back..."

[Oh, dear God, just shoot me now.]

"And we walked around the lake together and she was asking me things about myself," he says, " favorite color...and my favorite food..."

[Ooooh, she's good.]

"And did you ask her anything about her?"

"Huh?" he says.

[Oh. Hell. No.  But we'll have to save that discussion for another day as I'm currently trying to re-inflate my womb with my fleeing babies. :( ]


myevil3yearold said...

Thankfully, my momma's boy of a seven year old still thinks girls are icky. Although, there is this really pretty little girl that tells me, "I'm going to marry me, Ethan" everytime I see her at his school. I tell him to stay far away from her.


Yeah, the "girls are icky" thing could serve him well for many, many, many, many years. :)