Why my kindergarten* boyfriend was not the love of my life.

To start your Monday morning off right, Rebecca over at Losing It in AZ came up with an awesome idea. We should all share some stories of our past failed relationships. These stories can be about any relationship: a boyfriend, your mom, your cousin, your boss, your cat...you get the picture. Obviously, you're going to want to hop on this train, because I think if we put our heads together, we can come up with a really hilarious collection of our failures.

Failed Relationship: Josh, kindergarten boyfriend
Age: 4
Length of Relationship: Approximately 48 hours

I started kindergarten* at the ripe old age of four. As you can imagine, I was the youngest person in my class. Actually, I was pretty much the youngest person in my class until I graduated from high school. You see, my mom had to work. And, well, she needed me out of her hair. So even though I was three months past the cut-off birth date for admittance into school, she talked them in to taking me off her hands.

I was in class with my cousin Summer, who was a giant trouble maker. I bet she still is. She's the reason I got spanked for talking at nap time. You see, I was big into rule following. I still am, actually. It's just that now I pick and choose instead of following all rules presented to me. Life's more fun this way. Oh, and my mom ALWAYS signed that little piece of paper saying they could spank me at school. Rude.

Anyway, in our class, there was a boy. And this boy would steal my jacket and color on my paper and eat my chapstick and drop the see-saw really hard when I was on the other end. It was love, obviously. Except, of course, that I hated him. Then one day, he gave me a Valentine. Oh, that day was Valentine's Day. I suppose I should clear that up, so you don't think that he was some weirdo kid making Valentines on April 12th or something.

Oh man, I was so excited. I got a Valentine!

From a boy.

Weird.

Kind of icky.

Well, maybe it could be all right, if he would stop eating my chapstick. Ass.

After that, he held my hand and we played together at recess. Somehow this still involved him stealing my jacket during tag, but I think that's because he would always grab onto it to try to catch me, and I would unzip it and skip out of it (Yes, I totally mean skip. I was always a crappy runner, so I would skip and I could still beat most of the boys. True story.), leaving him holding my jacket and looking puzzled. Worked. Every. Time.

This is about the time I learned an important lesson. Boys are dumb.

Write that down.

About a week later, I found out that he had also given a Valentine to one of our other female classmates. What a jerk! We "broke up" and he stopped eating my chapstick (Yay!) and I refused to play tag and that, my friends, was the end of that.

*Actually, for all I know, all of this could have happened in the first, second, third, or fourth grade. Those memories are all sort of jumbled together in my mind. Except I know that in third or fourth grade I peed on myself and had to wear a borrowed Alf sweatshirt for the rest of the day. Along with borrowed pants, obviously. I didn't manage to just pee on my torso. Wow, that was embarrassing...