I still don’t get why I can’t keep it to myself sometimes.
He was the most desirable among my uniformed compadres. I cannot recall his actual features, but I do remember the whispers and swooning upon his arrival and departure. He liked to pose. I don’t recall him playing with the other kids in my class, just a few friends hanging around soaking up his cool factor. I had to find a way to let him know that I adored him. Turned out my girls had the same burden. So the plan was hatched. During recess, we would hand deliver our notes. And may the best girl for him win. He would be forced to go public. I think we were even open to negotiations for alternating schedules. I’d have taken the position as the chosen one for a few weeks.
As we approached him, our nerves began to fray. The letters were then thrown to him as we ran away. It took him less than 5 seconds to shred them with his hands, unread. His friends crowded him with laughter.
It took me a while to notice that teenage boys are not asking 7 year olds on dates outside of predatory behavior. Perhaps, multigrade play time should be reevaluated, although, being on the other side the door can be fun. But how do you know which door is worth a knock?
I still don’t get it 