Cootie Kiss

I was in kindergarten, still wary of boys and their cooties. 

Until, Tanner Snow came along. 

It was instant, naive love. 

My youthful heart skipped a beat the first time his hand brushed mine. I barely even noticed his cooties transferring to me. 

His alluring eyes made me feel as if I had never truly been looked at until the moment they glanced my way.  That sparkly pair joined with his pearly whites were enough to make any girl swoon. 

He was adorable. 

I knew I had to make him my boyfriend. All it took to accomplish this was my feminine charm and striking good looks. 

After all what boy could resist the charm of a 6 year old girl? 

Yes, indeed, the charm of a girl with four bigger, older brothers is quite hard to resist. 

Soon I had him promising to marry me someday.

Our sticky hands clumsily wrote love notes in crayon everyday to show how we felt for each other.

One day he decided to up his game, he decided to kiss me. 

I didn’t even have time to think about if his kiss was worth risking the cooties.

He just walked up to me in the least romantic way possible and smashed his face into mine. 

But at that moment I could not think of a more pleasurable experience. 

At such a young age, I decided that kissing was wonderful and I wanted more of that boy’s lip. I freaked out, chasing him around the playground begging for, “just one more Tanner, just one more!” He freaked out too.

In the opposite way. 

He decided girls did have cooties and they were not worth the trouble. 

I thought my heart was broken 

but it turns out penciled promises 

                    (even if they are broken) 

                                                          are sharper than crayons