Kissing Boys

   
I have spoken many times about the various boys that show up at my house to see my daughter. It started in 6th grade. These little boys that are taller than me with voices that crack and nervous eyes. Sometimes, she goes out and talks to them on the front porch, I sit in the living room and glance out the window every now and then. Sometimes they come in and sit on the couch next to her and I sit on the love seat across the room but not before declaring, "Elbows and below." My daughter grins at me and the boys turn red. I'm not stupid. I was in 7th grade once too.

I had my first kiss in 7th grade, my first real kiss. I remember it so clearly that I could replay it like a movie in my head. I was staying at a friend's house (everything always happens at a friend's house). It was a warm spring afternoon. We called the boy that I liked and invited him to meet us at the park. There were 3 of us girls, and this boy. I thought he was beautiful. He had these crystal blue eyes and shoulder-length blonde hair. He always wore flannels, wide leg jeans and Airwalks. He was so 90's.

We walked with this boy and talked about the things that seventh graders talk about. We wound up behind the local high school at the edge of a pond. My two friend's dared us to kiss. We laughed and said no but they kept it up. The boy turned to me and asked, "Do you want to?"
 Inside I was like:
                           
I tried to act cool about it, so I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "Okay."

It was like slow motion. I wasn't sure which way to turn my head, I was freaked out, it was totally awkward. The world stopped then and it was like just the two of us were there. I could hear my heart beating in my ears and I felt his lips pressed against mine and he stuck his tongue into my mouth. I was like, Do I stick my tongue out too? It was the strangest thing.

When it was over, we didn't make eye contact with each other. He went home and we walked back to my friend's house. "What was it like?" she asked.
"I don't know...kind of slimy."

My mother picked me up later and I was sure that she knew, that I was different somehow. She brought a rotisserie chicken from the grocery store and a 2-liter of Coca-Cola. I remember thinking, This is the best day ever. Chicken, soda AND I kissed grunge-boy. It was a good day.

I remember my second kiss too. Same boy, a few weeks later. We went to Wheaton Village. Somehow we got both of our parents to drop us off there alone. What the hell were they thinking? We were awkward. We walked through the park, watched the ducks, sat in the old school house. Then, we left Wheaton Village, crossed the parking lot, and I followed him through a patch of pine trees. On the other side was a field. It was so sunny that day and there were wild flowers everywhere. We sat in the grass and talked for a while.

Then, he looked into my eyes and I looked into his and we leaned in and kissed each other. This time it wasn't awkward at all. The earth still stopped and I could still hear my heart beating in my ears, but this time, when he stuck his tongue into my mouth, I didn't think it was slimy at all. I actually enjoyed it. It was like the movies. A beautiful, tender kiss.

Afterwards, we got up and went to sit on the bench out front for our parents to pick us up. I wasn't sure what this new feeling was but I knew that I wanted his tongue in my mouth all the time. That was my new goal in life. I was in the seventh grade.

I don't even know what happened to that boy, I feel like I never saw him ever again. Haha. My memory seems to get fuzzier as the years go by.

Anyway, I bring up this story because I have a daughter in the seventh grade and when boys show up at my house I can't help but think about the way I felt when grunge-boy stuck his tongue in my mouth 20 years ago. I understand now why my parents were so strict, because they knew. Because they were in the seventh grade once, and they had secrets too.

My daughter kisses boys. I've never seen her do it in real life but I am certain. She is my daughter, after all. I'm not really sure how I feel about that. It's different when it's your child. I'm resigned, I guess. I do everything I know to do. I watch, I sit, I joke about "elbows and below."

One day, she is going to have a beautiful daughter and boys will show up at her house with nervous eyes. Then, she'll understand my fears and reservations. In a just a few weeks, my daughters will be 6th and 8th graders. They are growing up and it's really, really hard.