The first girl I kissed was in Kindergarten. She came over to my house to play on a day we didn’t have school. We decided to build a house out of pillows next to my bed.

She said, “We’ll play house. You be the dad and I’ll be the mom.

I said, “Okay.”

She leaned towards me. “Moms and dads have to kiss when the dad comes home from work and you just came home from work.”

We both leaned in and kissed each other on the lips and then we did it again. I must have come home fifty times that day and after a while my Mom called for us. Evidently we had been too quiet. I didn’t want to stop kissing her but I heard my Mom’s footsteps and so we had to leave our pillow house.

After that day we sat next to each other all the time in class and I went to her house a few times. She told me we were going to get married some day and I believed her until I noticed another girl noticing me one day. Her name was Paula and after school one day she came up to me and said, “I really like your hair it looks like the Beatles.” Karen and I didn’t last the rest of the year.