Aside from the Obvious Han Solo and Danny Zuko there were Other Childhood Crushes

Next door lives a twelve year old girl and on Saturday that twelve year old girl celebrated her twelfth birthday. A party that involved volleyball and an inflatable water slide in their backyard. And a slew of bathing suit clad twelve year old...girls. On our street live three seventh grade boys. And those seventh grade boys spent the afternoon playing basketball on the cul-de-sac. And when I say playing basketball I mean absentmindedly dribbling the ball while stealing glances and shooting baskets when they thought the girls were watching. They were all what I like to call: cute. Two days into the new school year and suddenly the girls are less: yucky.

When I was their age I had a thing for the guy that stocked the dairy case in the local grocery store. He was tall, dark haired, and handsome. And buff. And the quarterback for the local high school. And a senior. So, like, can you blame me and stuff? I always knew when he was working because I'd spot his car in the parking lot. He drove one of these:



Only made considerably more hideous by the bright lime green color. It was a beacon in the sea of Ford Pintos and Oldsmobile Cutlasses. My mother was a sport and let me be in charge of collecting the milk, eggs, and store brand individually sliced cheese; which in my pre-teen angsty state was almost more than I could bear. I mean, we couldn't afford the Kraft individually wrapped American cheese and it was just so obvious. I would use this opportunity to stutter at him and turn eight shades of purple. Because there's nothing a handsome high school senior quarterback likes more than a blotchy twelve year old with a speech impediment. Am I right? I'm sure he thought I was cute. Like a puppy. A puppy with a great rack. My admiration for him was elevated when he was promoted to checker. I am a girl who likes a man with ambition, after all.

Being a fickle twelve year old, I also developed a humongous crush on the nephew of the owner of the local pizzeria. He was a lovely brand of Italian. Except he was twenty three. This didn't bother me. I imagined this not to be an obstacle, naturally. Also he flew one of these:


And because we were friends of the owners of the local pizzeria my mother allowed me to go for a ride (a fly? a flight? whatever). This crush ended abruptly when it was discovered that he sort of had a thing for my mom. To her credit, she was 33 and kinda hot. [Paging Dr. Freud and/or Shakespeare]

How about you? Admit your first crush? And please Jesus God don't say it was your spouse because I'll know you're lying and I'd hate to be the one to tell you that your pants are on fire. Unless you met them when you were like ten.


**photos from Google images