Life in the Slow Lane

Life in the Slow Lane

Monday, November 14, 2005

First Kiss and Other Filthy Lies

This particular memory popped into my head this weekend and it superficially fits into week’s Mrtl Motif Monday of First Kiss. However, that is not why I thought of it. It is just a funny memory that cracks me up as an adult knowing how the world works and all.

When I was in Grade 1 (we don’t say first grade in Canada but Grade 1) and about six years old I had a school friend by the name of Patrick O’Connor. Quite a common name so I won’t bother to change it to protect anybody’s privacy. Besides, it is a really cute story.

Anyway, I considered him my friend and not my boyfriend as my real school crushes were on this kid named Sebastian who I flirted madly with in a typical childhood fashion by ignoring him, avoiding him at all costs and never speaking a word to him if I possibly could help it. I still flirt this way because I believe in finding something that works dismally for you and sticking to it. I also LOVED LOVED LOVED Mr. Hawthorne who taught Grade 5. I just couldn’t wait to get to that grade so I could gaze upon his face ALL DAY LONG! That dream was never realised as we moved out of the neighbourhood in the middle of grade 4 and I never saw him again.

Anyway, I considered Patrick a regular friend and had great fun playing at his house as he had guinea pigs. I loved guinea pigs and wanted one soooo badly. This also was never to be as my mom decided guinea pigs were just a little too close to rats and thereby dirty and not allowed near her house. Not only did Patrick have two guinea pigs but they were male and female so he ALWAYS had little eensty teensy baby guinea pigs that were soooooo cute to play with. Anyway, while we did play at Patrick’s house a few times he especially loved to play at my house more. When I would beg to play with the tiny guinea pigs he would always overrule me and we would go to my house instead to play dress-up, his favourite game in the whole wide world. You see, Patrick’s most favourite thing to do was dress up like a ‘lady’ complete with high heels and lipstick. My mom was quite the fashionista so my dress-up box was full of fabulous frilly things as well as blonde wigs and hairpieces. While dressing up was fun it sometimes got to be a drag (!) as Patrick always had to be the prettiest girl in the group and would be bossy over wearing the most dramatic scarves, the silkiest slips and the highest heels.

He eventually got nosey and raided my mom’s closet, flipping through the hangars giving a running commentary on what was ‘boootiful’ and what wasn’t. My babysitter was mostly preoccupied with my little brother and never seemed to care that this little boy would be prancing around the house with the rest of us girls in my mom’s frocks and stilettos. Maybe she never noticed he was a boy in the first place. I am not sure. But eventually my mom saw him and got a little upset telling me that he was NOT be dressing up in her clothes anymore. I didn’t want to tell him to stop as I thought that conflicted with my upbringing on being a good little hostess. But mom’s word was final and bad hostess I was. After that it was no longer fun for him to play with me so he eventually stopped coming over.

One day, for some reason or another that I cannot remember, before he was cut off from his ladies’ fashion supply he took me aside and very chastely kissed me on the cheek. Once again I didn’t think much of it as he was, at this point, just one of the girls but somebody must have seen it happen as the very next day drawn on the schoolyard wall was a HUGE heart with his and my name in it. Our full names so nobody could get us confused with anybody else in the school. I was MORTIFIED!!! First of all how did this graffiti artist find out our names? I knew it was a much older kid as the printing was very neat and there were no spelling mistakes. Secondly, why did they even care? We were just a couple of the youngest kids in the school. I was very shy and not popular. I flew under the radar most of the time. And I was most definitely not in love with Patrick. They were perpetuating a filthy lie! Thirdly, Mr. Hawthorne and Sebastian would see it thereby ruining any chance I had of marrying them when I grew up. OH NO! I would have to ignore and avoid them much harder now to show them how much I really cared.

Within a few days the school custodian painted over the heart and my life returned to normal. Patrick moved away soon after and I never really gave him another thought. That is until I grew up, met my first drag queens and started thinking…

15 comments:

Happy and Blue 2 said...

If the writing was perfect maybe it was Mr. Hawthorne who did it in a fit of rage at seeing you kiss another. Or not..

KULA said...

Cute story. I am still trying to imagine a little boy wanting so badly to dress up like a girl. That is just the funniest thing I've read in a long while! Thanks Kranki! You make my day that much better :)

eclectic said...

Bwahahahah!! Our daughter is the oldest of our three kids, and the younger ones are boys. As she had an enduring love of dress-up, the boys grew into it. At any given moment, we could have "lovely ladies" prancing about in feather boas, sling-backs, long ballet skirts and flower-embellished straw hats. This, sadly, almost cost our oldest son a friend. *sigh* Why can't kids just be kids? This is a darling story, very enticingly written!

Closet Metro said...

Patrick's autobiography: "I was a Grade One Drag Queen"

Squirl said...

That's a great story. Bucky has a story about a childhood friend of hers who wanted to wear the plastic, bouffant wigs. He's also the one who, as a teenager, wanted to sing Funny Girl with me but kept trying to sing Barbra Streisand's parts.

Anonymous said...

I cannot believe that you cheated on me behind my slingbacks!!! You are a dragfaghag whore...ANY CHEAP OUTFIT AND TACKY MAKEUP WILL DO!! You know that I did it better and better coordinated (beige purse, matching coat, button up blouse and go-go boots. I am still here supporting your fashion adventure....WHERE IS HE!!

I am spent

Susie said...

"...I flirted madly with in a typical childhood fashion by ignoring him, avoiding him at all costs and never speaking a word to him if I possibly could help it. I still flirt this way because I believe in finding something that works dismally for you and sticking to it"

Cracking me up! Great story. Thanks for the laugh.

Anonymous said...

I have to say, I highly recommend the Irishmen types. ;D

Anonymous said...

You have the best stories!

Anonymous said...

OMG, I'll have to talk about my memories of the boy next door who played dress up with me as kids! ....but he never kissed me and I never had a crush on him...

Fodder for the blog, Kranki, thanks!
:)

Kranki said...

happyandblue2-Mr. Hawthorne? Hmmmm...Interesting idea. You just might have something...

dima-thanks! I wish I had video of it. He was soooo into the dressing up.

eclectic-that sounds sooo cute. You should post photos of that. Seriously sweet.

closet m-I would so buy that book.

squirl-that is a riot. I love those bouffant wigs. Does that make me a drag queen?

pablum-darling! You know I am your one and only faghag. I was but 6 years old and innocent of all duplicity. I did not know what I was getting into. You are forever my special homo. Many spankings to you!

twisted u-or punching. Punching is a good one too.

susie-sadly, I only wish I was joking...

amanda b-me likey the irish too. I have a running joke that I will marry anybody by the name of Declan.

kalki-I must draw upon my past for posts as I do not have a sweet and hunky husband to write about like you do.

circe-I will look out for that one.

mrtl-actually after I wrote the post I looked in the white pages but there were 3 Patrick O'Connors. I guess I could call them all and ask if they wore women's clothes at a kid...

Sherriatric said...

OMG, this story is awesome!

I think Mr. Hawthorne may have very well been the artist in question. You should look into that.

Thanks for sharing! :-)

Katy Barzedor said...

Ahahaha, yeah, the plastic bouffant wigs. Every girl should have a little drag queen friend in grade school.

I'll bet Mr. Hawthorne would be VERY interested to hear from you now...just a thought....

east village idiot said...

Oh my God. I love this blog post. It's almost like a Jane Austen novel!

I have a feeling you were not meant to live under the radar.

Candy said...

Hey baby, wanna make out?