I walked into the HiJacked Bar this Thursday night, grabbing an empty bar stool next to a dear friend of mine. Country Western music was playing on the jukebox turned up loud enough not to have to talk.

Nodding to the bartender, I ordered an ice cold beer. My mind already thinking thoughts of old, due to reading @Thekittygirl's post of her 'First Kiss'. If you have not read her post yet, do yourself a favor, jump on over to her blog and read her story first.

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Now back to old thoughts and very young days. I grew up in a neighborhood that had twelve houses in it. It was a slice of heaven that was tucked down in a small valley between three main roads of the town in which I lived. There was one way in and the same way out of my neighborhood. This made it all the better for banana seat bike races down the hill. Anyone driving down our road lived there and knew the place was full of kids being kids. We were safe from crazy drivers on most days.

Through the neighborhood ran a creek that always had a trickle of water even on the hottest day of the year. Behind the creek were woods filled with moss, shade and so much imagination. On a hot day in the Summer, it was a perfect place to grow up as a kid.

For some strange reason when all the families moved into those twelve houses they had kids that were all about three years apart. This meant there was always someone to play with even when the older kids started going off to school.

There were no 'play dates' when I was growing up. You just walked out your back door, looked around to see who was done with their Saturday chores.

Wait, you don't know how to tell if someone has their chores done? Awww it's easy. It's the kids that are making themselves as small as they can, not saying a word, while they slowly, very slowly, start walking back to the creek before their parents might catch a glimmer of them. If you got caught before you were safely out of sight, you were doomed to more chores or worse yet, going weekly grocery shopping with your Mom.

The ratio of boy versus girls was very skewed in that boy's favor which was fine by me. I grew up a tomboy and loved every minute of it. Spending the day sitting way up high in a giant willow tree with your buddy talking about nothing and everything is something all children should be able to say they did.

Then I turned five. Life as I had known it was all about to change. Where I grew up once you turned five meant you were going to have to start Kindergarten the next year. I remember being excited and scared knowing soon I would have to go off on a school bus to places unknown.

A few things did work in my favor that year. My next door bubby ended up in the same kindergarten class as me. I would not have to walk all the way up the hill and wait at the top all by myself. Once at school I knew my brother would be in there somewhere so if anything bad happened my big brother would make it right. It's what big brothers do for their little sisters when needed. Trust me on this one, he did on more than one occasion.

The Autumn I was five saw me and the rest of the youngest kids off to school. I found Kindergarten to be a bore. You had to wear shoes, sit quietly, take a nap on a piece of quarter inch hard foam, drink milk and eat gram crackers. It really was a waste of my time.

One of the things I hated most about school was they started separating the boys from the girls. I really don't think it bothered most of the other kids. It just so happened that most of my friends from my neighborhood were boys. They played better games then the girls did. All girls wanted to do was talk. They didn't even want to go on the swings. Honest. Girls really didn't know how to have fun in my eyes.

The best and worse part of the day was when we all had to get in a circle and listen to the teacher read a story. The stories were boring as all get out. Most of them I had already read. My spot in the circle just happened to be right next to the teacher and her very hairy legs. Many a conversation were had about that poor teacher's hairy legs. Thinking of them still makes me shiver a little.

Anywho, one such day the teacher was reading a story. All morning long my buddy and I were being teased. Something about sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G'ing. Why someone wanted to kiss while in a tree, I thought a bizarre idea. Then again, I had never kissed anyone so what did I know.

Never one to not want to learn something, I stuck my head behind the teacher's chair and whispered to my buddy if he wanted to try this kissing thing. We were being teased about it, had not done it yet, so in my mind it made perfect sense. He was more than willing to give it a shot.

Thinking back, getting caught for kissing was not our fault. It was all the other kids that started not listening to the teacher reading her story. With all the pointing and laughing at my buddy and me testing out what the big deal with kissing was, the teacher stopped reading, turned around and caught us.

I'm here to say one dry peck on my lips was not worth all the trouble I got into at school and at home that day. The school called my Mom. I had to be picked up early, taken home and told why kissing in school was not allowed and a whole bunch of other things I REALLY, REALLY didn't want to know.

And that is the story of my first kiss...

Thank you @Thekittygirl for a great trip down Memory Lane.

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