SO WHAT DO YOU DO

when you can't remember your first kiss? Chalk it up to old age, a poor memory, a memory that was so mundane that it escaped your file, or make it up.

At KKK or Kox Kiddie Kollege, I along with about twenty other 4 and 5 year olds were exposed to out first formal schooling at the hands of Mrs. Mildred Cox. Bu the way, I think grade school teachers should be named Mildred or some name that evokes more than respect. I don't have a good term for it other than dedication, but one that conjures up no other life than to educate. Anyway, there was this girl that I liked, and so begins my story.

Her name was Ina Sue or Ida Sue, and she must have been rather hot because Benny also liked her. Whether he kissed her or I kissed her at school became secondary after the fight. Either he kissed her and I started the fight, or the other way around. But we fought to the dismay of Mildred and others watching until Mrs. Cox pulled me off him. It must have been that way or I would have cried, and I clearly remember no tears on my young cheeks.

So if it was my first kiss or not, I don't recall. But it was my first fight at school. I also vaguely remember Ina or Ida was the one who cried. I don't know if Benny did or not because my attention was directed at her.

Years passed. Fifth grade Jackie came into my life because we shared a love for movies. We went to the movies on Saturdays and Sundays and we kissed there but mostly held hands. Pecks on the lips. That's the only way we knew how.

It must have been important, because I clearly remember where we sat. I even remember her name.