The First Kiss

This past Friday was my oldest daughter's eighth grade dance. It was her first "dress up" dance, and she was a vision in a black sundress, with white flowers through the waist and on the hem. Her 5'7" frame was heightened to over an Amazonian 5'9" with her strappy black sandals. Her long strawberry blond hair was shining and wavy. She was beautiful, and just shy of 14.

She has a "friend" who is 6'5" and has been completely enamored of her for a year or so. He seems to be a sweet guy, and she likes him a lot, but as a mother, I worry she likes him too much. When she met him at the dance, he surprised us all (except for his mother, of course) with a wrist corsage of miniature white roses for her.

When I came home from dropping her off, my husband was home, getting ready for an event he had to go to over the weekend. I told him my mother flag was waving like crazy. I said I have a feeling something momentous was going to happen that evening. "Her first kiss?" he asked me. Yes, I said. I think so. I was both excited and nervous at the thought of it.

My own first kiss was one I never forgot...unfortunately. LOL It was with a boy I really liked, who was charming and slick and could talk a girl right out of her pants. He was insincere and smooth and I was immediately attracted to him, even at the tender age of 14.

It was after school one gorgeous afternoon, and he and his brother, and me and a few of my girlfriends were hanging out at a park in the center of our city, one with lots of trees and boulders and one of the few places like that in our area. He knew I liked him of course. He'd taken me aside and we sat on one of the big boulders, under the cover of trees, where no one could see us.

Then he asked me to go out with him. I wasn't allowed to date. Yes, I said. Then I saw him move in for the kiss, and before I knew it, his tongue was in my mouth and wagging around like the spin cycle in a washing machine. It was wet and sloppy and horrible. I had never had a deep kiss like that before, and my entire body was shaking uncontrollably. I was so embarrassed. But I couldn't will myself to stop shaking either. Finally, it was over. I was still trembling. And my cheeks were burning. The entire experience was just awful.

In fact, it's practically a miracle that kissing has actually been my favorite pastime since then. (wink) LOL

So, that evening, when I picked my daughter up from the dance, I asked her how it was, she said she had a good time, but was quieter than usual. She told me she was just tired when I questioned it. Don't pressure her, I told myself. She'll tell you when she's ready.

Well, the next day, I asked her straight out of the boy had kissed her. "Maybe," she said in her wise-ass way, giving me a smile. Then yes, she said, he did. Well, like a foolish mother that I am, I immediately went into peals of "Awwwwww! My baby's growing up!!'

She knows me, though. It didn't embarrass her. And I didn't ask her how it was. Let's leave a little bit for a later-in-life conversation.

I can only hope her first kiss was better than mine.