@elizabeth1103 posted a question in which she asked about other users' first kiss experiences. I thought back to my first kiss - 55 years ago.
When I was a toddler, my mother thought that I had great academic potential. At that time, there were no kindergartens or pre-K classes in public schools. My mother also knew that a student could start first grade at age 5 only if they would have their 6th birthday before December 31 of that year. My birthday would be in January; that meant that I would be delayed a year in beginning school and would be one of the oldest students in my class.
Mom was determined to give me a head start so she enrolled me in a private kindergarten at age 4. It was taught by a retired first grade teacher and her kindergarten was a classroom and not just a day care. The kindergarten did not have "buses" but it did have a few women with station wagons who drove around and picked up the children.
I was the next to the last pickup for the woman who drive the turquoise station wagon. The last pickup was Margie. She was BEAUTIFUL!
I was immediately fascinated with this girl. Although I was otherwise shy, I talked to her and was very impressed with her maturity. She was 5 years old and I thought about running away from home so she and I could be married.
After my first year of kindergarten, Margie started first grade and I remained behind for another year of kindergarten.
When I finally started first grade, Margie was not at my elementary school. Apparently, her address placed her in the attendance zone for another school. Because my two years of kindergarten had prepared me so well, I was promoted to second grade after only two weeks in first grade. Now I was the youngest in my class! But still no Margie! :( :( :(
A new elementary school opened the following year and I was in the zone for the new school. On my first day of school, I discovered that not only was Margie also at this new school, but she was in the same third grade class with me . . . and we got to sit beside each other! I had a very serious case of puppy love!
Margie and I were both good students and, in the springtime, the young innocent teacher assigned us some goofy special project. This meant that Margie and I could remain in the classroom unsupervised, ostensibly to work on this project, while the rest of the class was on the playground for recess.
I recognized that this was a very special opportunity and I carped the diem! I walked up to Margie, intending to kiss her on the hand (because I had seen it in a movie, it looked rather cool, and I didn't think it would get me in too much trouble if I got caught.) So . . . I looked her in the eyes for a few seconds, and then I kissed her. I'm not sure what kind of spirit entered my body at that moment but I kissed her
ON THE LIPS!
And then we went back to working on whatever we had been working on. I didn't kiss her again, we didn't hold hands, we didn't plan our first date, and we didn't talk about the kiss. We just ignored it.
When the class returned from recess, I was sure the teacher would take one look at me and say, "YoungerAndStupider, you kissed Margie while we were at recess, didn't you? Don't lie to me, young man; I can see it on your face!" Certainly, she would know, because she was an adult. But nothing happened.
I thought that maybe Margie would tell the teacher when we were at lunch and that would be the end of my life. But that didn't happen.
Then I thought that maybe they were waiting until the end of the day. When I walked out to get on the bus to go home, I was certain that, instead of a bus, a police car would be waiting for me.
The policeman would take me to jail, my family would never be told where I was, and I would stay in jail until I died.
Of course, that didn't happen, so I next thought that perhaps they were conducting an investigation, needed to talk to the principal, etc. and that it might take a day or two before I was actually arrested for my crime. As each day passed, I convinced myself that perhaps the threat had passed but maybe, in a moment of weakness, Margie would blurt out the details and I would be arrested at last.
At the end of the school year, Margie told me that her family was moving to somewhere a million miles away, like Ohio, and that I would probably never see her again. I said that I would miss her and we each said goodbye.
As I turned to walk away from her, I had never before felt so relieved! I'm not going to jail! I'm safe.
It was 8 years before I kissed the next girl in my life.
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