I’m So Pathetic For You

Most people first hold hands with a boy when they’re like five, right? Or if you’re like my daughter, age two. But if you grow up having four brothers, two of which are older than you, holding hands with a boy would be like holding onto a crustacean. Sure, I can do it, but why on earth would I want to? It feels gross, is probably wet, and my hand will stink afterwards.

If I look back, I think I was a pretty logical kid. I remember sitting in AWANAS (who’s been in AWANAS? I’ve got the red team in my blood) and telling some older girls (who were bragging about kissing) that I had no intention of kissing any boy til I knew I would marry him. Hold on, hold on! Yes, my parents definitely didn’t discourage my plan, but I had it all figured out that if I were to kiss someone that had kissed someone else…then that meant I was getting everybody’s germs all at once.

It makes sense, right?

Now, realize that I was like 10 when I was having this conversation. But I did stay true to my wish–Matt is the only boy I have kissed.

Holler.

Ok, so before Matt I of course liked different boys. I had my silly crushes, as any girl does. I had one “boyfriend,” who could barely be labeled a “boyfriend.” We were friends, we “liked” each other, we told each other how we felt…And then nothing. No kiss. No hand holding. Just “liking.” It didn’t last long, and ironically we both ended up with our significant others within months after. Ha! And we’re still friends.

Cheesy at it may sound, Matt is the only guy I’ve ever, ever fallen in love with. And it happened the summer of my senior year in high school. Someday I’ll probably try and write down our story, but for now I’m just going to tell you one of the most memorable dates we ever had.

I guess it’s not really a “date,” because my family was with us. But it was the first time we held hands, the first time I got the woozy-weak-in-the-knees feeling, and the first and only time I have ever fallen in love.

It happened at Six Flags Magic Mountain.

Yuck. Scratch that image of nasty, hormonal, sweaty teenagers licking each other’s faces in line. We weren’t like that. We were the people that made fun of such spectacles. We had my three younger siblings with us all day, so we were trying to show them the proper response to such behavior. Plus we were grossed out.

One of the things that I consider a huge “perk” about my husband is the way he is able to relate to each of my family members. And that’s saying something when you have four brothers and one sister. It all started with that “date” to Magic Mountain, where my two younger brothers vied for a seat next to Matt.

Our  mini chaperones (ages 7, 9, and 12) escorted us on practically every ride. Like I said, my brothers wanted to have the privileged spot next to Matt, so most of the rides were spent sitting next to my sis. And that was ok, until that one moment.