Don Juan of the first grade

It must not have been that bad. I don’t remember hearing any complaints. Except for the teacher’s.

She asked my mom to meet with her after school. And to bring me.

She sat in the middle of her kidney-shaped table. My mom and I were on the other side.

I don’t remember much about that meeting. Just that she told my mom what I’d been doing and that it needed to stop.

Before school each class would make two lines. A line of boys and a line of girls.

I’d walk down the girls’ line and give them each a kiss.

I don’t remember exactly why I did it. I wasn’t in love with every girl in the class. At least I don’t think so…

I didn’t see a problem with it. I kissed my family members all the time. Even my grandpas.

I didn’t get in a lot of trouble. That’s probably because I stopped.

I didn’t kiss another girl for twelve years.

But that’s another story.