It's that time again! All About MEme time!
This week Supah and MommyBrain want
to read a story about your FIRST KISS.
It seems like I've had quite a few first kisses in my life. But only one relationship ever progressed much beyond that first kiss. And all those other "first kisses" have all but faded from my memory, become meaningless practice for the real-deal, my first kiss with my now husband. Disgustingly sweet, I know ... but oh-so-true!
One kiss that is burned quite vividly in my memory is my very first kiss. Good thing that's what Supah asked for. It was more like lips grazing ... if there were such a thing as a kiss-o-meter, this kiss would fall below a peck. As it should because it happened in the first grade.
Now I've had some much more exciting and juicier (believe me, pun intended) first kisses. But I am going to be true to the prompt ... what you are about to read are the details of my very first kiss to the best of my knowledge and decrepit memory.
For some reason, a reason that alludes me right now and probably isn't important anyway, Tim Fahnestock and I found ourselves inside our classroom when the rest of the class and our teacher was out for recess. So much for adult supervision, huh? I have no idea what we were doing in there, but we both knew that we weren't suppose to be in the classroom without the teacher. Being in that empty classroom seemed like such a treat, like reading your sister's diary or looking in your parents' nightstand drawer. In our young minds, we were doing something a little naughty, and that feeling bond us together in an electrifying kind of way.
To avoid getting caught, we hatched a plan to hide in the coat closet until the class returned and then just blend in with the after-recess chaos and take our seats with everyone else. This elaborate plan resulted in the two of us sitting on the floor of the coat closet amongst backpacks and lunchboxes and those jackets not worn out to play. My heart was pounding - not because Tim Fahnestock but because I was doing something wrong. My mind was racing to think up an excuse or reason. I even said a little prayer (it was Catholic school after all) that we wouldn't get caught.
I can't remember exactly how the conversation started, but Tim mentioned something about a kiss. Honestly, all of my attention was focused on what would happen when the teacher found out; I wanted so badly to avoid getting into trouble. My mind was so preoccupied, I couldn't even consider his request.
But he persisted and I couldn't think of a good reason not to kiss him. And so our tiny little first grade lips came together ever-so-gently and quickly and then parted. I remember feeling a rush of heat in my cheeks - but I've always been known to blush. My thoughts of getting in trouble vanished. I think I fell in love ... a little.
Within seconds the rooms outside the closet erupted in the sounds of twenty classmates returning from recess. Tim Fahnestock, the boy who will forever more be known as my first kiss, anxiously whispered, "Whatever you do, don't tell anyone that we kissed."
And just like that, Tim stood up, turned the knob of the closet door, and stepping into the stream of our peers. With his orders to deny what had happened hovering above me, I was left on the floor with red cheeks and a knot in my stomach.
Fortunately, the teacher never figured out that we had been in the classroom during recess. Our plan worked; we just blended in with the rest of the class.
I did as Tim said and kept our little secret ... for a grand total of about three hours. Within just a few minutes of arriving home from school that day, I told my mom and my neighborhood friend Sarah all about my first kiss ... with Tim Fahnestock ... in the coat closet of my first grade classroom.
Now, link up your fabulous First Kiss post so I can take a little stroll down MEmory Lane with ya :)