I was very much a tomboy as a little girl. I could only handle so much time playing with Barbie...I preferred playing sports (or making up sports!) with the neighbor kids. It was not uncommon for most of my friends to be boys. Girls just weren't willing to get dirty- though I blame some of their neat-freak mothers for that...thankfully, mine let me play in the mud...sometimes. :)
When we lived in San Diego I had the pleasure of attending a private school for a couple of years. In 2nd grade, I was the valedictorian of my class. I had been working hard all year. I enjoyed learning & being competitive- it was not hard for me to put that extra effort into "winning" at school. Christmas had come and gone and now we were getting into February.
I knew that I only had a few more months until I got the ribbon and certificate for my good grades. (It's a shame I didn't feel as competitive in college...) I was such a focused little nerd.
One day, this focus was interrupted. The boy two seats over began passing notes to me. I had never thought about love and romance before and was a little annoyed to be interrupted in class. For about a week, the notes came...drawings with "Will you be my Valentine?" scrawled across the top. Poor boy. I was just not interested and became plain irritated by the end of the week.
My logical 8-yr-old brain had a brilliant idea...! If I say "yes" to this boy and agree to be his valentine, the notes in class will stop. So, the next time a note came my way, I looked over and nodded. It felt like I was agreeing to be on his team for soccer or something & I shrugged and turned my attention back to the teacher.
No more notes came and I was satisfied.
The night before Valentine's Day, I had put together all my paper valentines...and then remembered the boy! What are you supposed to do for a valentine? I didn't spend too much time thinking about it.
Grabbing a paper lunch sack, I put two brand new Lisa Frank pencils, some collectible erasers (you know the kinds that were colored and shaped like fruit, animals, etc.? Remember those?), and a little notepad into it. Surveying my handiwork I decided that would be good enough and stuffed it into my backpack.
I waited for a good time to give the sack to him...I wasn't going to give him anything if he didn't give me something because obviously I had no idea how this worked. I didn't want to be a valentine dummy or anything...and I liked those pencils...
Well, at the very end of the day, he presented me with a beautiful heart shaped box with four chocolate truffles and I thanked him graciously and handed him the sack. Then he was hustled onto his bus and I climbed into the minivan with my mom & sisters.
The next day, thinking that we were going to be good friends after such an exchange, I approached him at recess to say hi. On either side of him were a couple of the "cool" girls from our class apparently comforting him from his horrible experience with me as his valentine! I don't remember what they said, but I was dismissed from his lofty presence as he sat upon the large jungle gym of tires. Briefly shocked that he didn't want to be friends, I turned away and spotted the soccer game starting up. Leaving those three in the dust, I joined the game instead.
I am happy to announce that I received the valedictorian position! That boy was only my valentine because I was nerdy enough to be upset about being interrupted in class. Wish I'd confronted him outside of class and avoided the valentine mess...but I'm not a confrontational person by nature. And who can expect an 8 year old to know what to do in those kinds of situations?
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