First Kiss

The other day I was reminiscing about the summer of 98 and about how many firsts I had that summer. Some good, some not so great. It was my first international venture alone, I made my first international friends, had my first "How to Catch a Predator" type of experience (thank G-d it was my first and only), my first hitchhiking experience, my first encounter with jungle juice and of course my first kiss.

I often find it funny when people are questioned about their first kiss in an interview and they often say something like "It was with Billy in third grade." Those kind of kisses just don't count for me. If I had to count those kind of kisses, I remember one in particular. I have no idea how old I was, probably about 6 or 7, it was a Sunday afternoon after potluck at church. Many of us kids were bored and decided to have a wedding in the sanctuary. I was the bride, David was the groom and at the conclusion of the fake ceremony we kissed. I think I would have totally forgotten about this had it not been for some older girl in our church who thought the kiss was highly inappropriate and told my mother. My mom obviously did not care in the least. But it amused me then and it amuses me now the gravity of the situation in the tattletale's eyes. Oh, and as a little side note, David has since come out of the closet.