I had my first “boyfriend” at 11.
I remember when he came to our house early one evening. I was there by myself (a pretty common occurrence by that age), and although it was still light outside, I was already prepared for bed.
Our front door had windows set into it, so when the knock came at the door, I could see who it was… and there was no CHANCE I could be seen in my jammies..! So I snuck and sidled from wall to angled wall, hoping he wouldn’t see me. The conversation, as I recall it, went something like this:
Polikid (hiding inside behind the door): What do you want?
Chip (or Skip?): I want to know if you’ll go with me. (“Go with me”, of course, was the precursor to “go out with me” — and they superceded the antiquated “go steady”. )
Polikid: Okay.
And that, as best I can recall, was the entire conversation.
Suddenly it was important that I look my best when I went ice-skating (which is how I knew him)… and at school, I was propelled abruptly into Popular status. Heady times!
And after a while, I broke up with him. He wanted me to kiss him and the very thought made my skin crawl.
Since AC and her BFF(s) cringe and howl (“EEWWwwwww”) at romantic scenes on TV still, I expect her reaction would be exactly the same…. and that, my friends, is a very good thing — because this morning, AC’s normal school gear was enhanced by a fairly large paper bag.
In it, along with 60+ (!?!) little Harry Potter greeting cards individually adorned with heart-shaped lollipops, were a couple of other things: a separate card (that took the better part of half an hour to find), and one very carefully selected and wrapped gift. AC agonized over these two items, because they are intended (of course) for a boy.
A very Nice Boy (NB), mind you, but a boyfriend nonetheless… and this is how their “relationship” launched:
BFF (whispering because they were in Science class): Psst! NB! Aren’t you going to ask her?
NB (red-faced, determined, and also whispering): Wanna go out, AC?
AC: Okay.
LOL!!!
This morning, watching AC walk down the sidewalk toward the bus-stop with her hair perfectly arranged (with just the right touch of messiness), I felt both old and young. Those heady days are decades behind me now, but the thrill still lives.
More than that, though — I’m so very reassured. However much our society has changed (and it has), some things really aren’t very different after all.
To everyone who, like Polimom, remembers that first special someone — Happy Valentine’s Day.
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