And So It Begins

One of my most important kindergarten memories involves a boy and a coat closet and kissing. I can't remember the name of the boy, or what he looked like, but I know I liked him, and I know I was the one who chased him into the coat closet, trying to land my first smooch. Later I remember getting into fist fights with boys I liked; I also remember plans to marry Allen, my next door neighbor, and, then, later still, in 5th grade, I remember plotting my happily-ever-after with Steve, who wore shiny nylon shirts with photo prints on them. (After all, it was 1977.)

So I shouldn't have been surprised when Jacob brought home his first love note from a little girl in his class. Here's how the conversation about the love note went:

"Hey, what's this?"

"Oh, I got that from Elizabeth."

"Who's Elizabeth?"

"A girl in my class."

"What's she like?"

"I don't know."

"I guess she likes you, huh? Do you think she really likes you? Like does she want to marry you?"

"Oh, yeah. I guess she does. Yeah, I think she really likes me."

"How do you feel about her?"

Jacob shrugs his shoulders and looks up at the ceiling.

"Ah, I see."

As I put away the love note in my special folder, I felt sad for little Elizabeth; here she is 5 or 6 years old and she's already putting her heart out there! I don't blame her for liking Jacob---he's very likable! But I hope she isn't too crushed by the fact that he doesn't return the sentiment.