Hand holding, first crush

holding hands
The first time I remember holding a boy’s hand was when I was in kindergarten, and that was a very time ago, forty-seven years to be exact. It was for some kind of production each class was putting on for the school. The girls and boys had to line up beside each other, sing along to a particular song all well holding hands. Now in kindergarten pretty much the last thing you want to do is hold the hand of the opposite sex. Girls thought boys were yucky and boys thought girls were yucky at that age. Either way, we had no choice. I clearly remember parading around the classroom holding Michael’s hand (I even remember his last name if you can imagine). As it turned out, in grade four or five, he would be my first boyfriend, and I believe it lasted about three days. I walked him home, because he lived closer to the school than I did.

Fast forward many years, our first child is in grade two. After volunteering for a couple of hours one morning I ended up leaving just as recess had begun. Out of curiosity, I pulled the van up beside the playground just to see if I could see my daughter. Well lo and behold, there she was, with the nicest little guy in her class holding hands and skipping across the playground. I sat and watched for a bit, then left because I didn’t want her to see me and have her moment ruined. Later that day when she arrived home, I asked her the usual questions, how was your day, what did she do, anything exciting happen, but I didn’t get much out of her. I never mentioned seeing her bounce across the playground with the little boy until years later, and sadly she doesn’t remember that moment in time.

Do you remember your first hand holding experience with the opposite sex or your first crush?

9 thoughts on “Hand holding, first crush

  1. Pingback: Hand holding, first crush | LAB

  2. Aisha from Expatlog

    I remember kiss chase (with the emphasis more on the chase than the kissing) and having a crush on a slightly wolfish boy called Luke who distributed (stolen?) pens to his favourites. That was before David Essex eclipsed anyone in my age-bracket for the next few years…

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