I remember when I was in my first year of school. I loved my very first teacher so much. Every day when I left to go home, I would hug and kiss her goodbye. I don’t remember exactly why, but I do recall the strength of my feelings. I was four and a half.
I can also remember the first boy I fell in love with. I wanted to be in his presence every minute of the day, but he barely knew I existed. This was when I was five or six. I was devastated.
The only boy that liked me back then was really sweet and kind but I was in love with “Matthew”. The sweet and kind boy that liked me followed me around everywhere and I thought of him as “Moon Face”. I never called him this, but that is how I referred to him in my mind because he reminded me of the happy and smiley character out of the “Magic Faraway Tree” by Enid Blyton. Perhaps, his heart was saddened by my lack of enthusiasm for his school boy advances. I’m sorry Moon Face.
In grade 5, I remember playing kiss chasey. The only boy that chased me was the one I didn’t want to be kissed by. I ran into the girls’ toilet and slammed the metal gate shut against his onslaught but he burst through like an angry bull and smashed the gate open. My arm was crushed between the brick wall and the metal gate breaking my wrist.
Not a good start to the game of love.
I’m writing this not to demonstrate how pathetic my love life was in primary school, but because I am now in a position to watch my boys fall in love in their early years of school just as I did. Thankfully, I can say that they seem to have more luck than me.
One day, my eldest, when he was in grade 5 (so around 11 years old), slipped into the car and sadly told me he had broken up with his girlfriend. I love that he’s not too shy to share these events with me and we discussed it for a while. He was surprisingly accepting but I gave him my empathy, love and a big hug when we got home.
The next day, when I picked up my children again, my third son, (not to be left out), sadly told me he had broken up with his girlfriend. Trying to hide my amusement (he was only 5), I asked him if he was alright. Just as he started to answer, my fourth son (3 years old) piped up and said, “Can I have her?” To which son number three replied, “She’s not a box of chocolates!”
I was quite impressed that Felix (number 3), was able to so eloquently articulate his understanding and respect for girls at such a young age. I guess then, that I’m not at all surprised to find that at the age of nine, he is head over heels in love and so tender that he may just give Price Charming a run for his money.
They are cute together; just young and innocent love. Holding hands and spending time together is the extent of their relationship, but they don’t seem to have enough hours in the day to be together. At home they write each other letters which are delivered shyly in the playground and on weekends they try to arrange more time together as well.
Today, I found a letter Felix had written to Chloe. It was really lovely so I asked him why he didn’t send it. He said he was going to and I told him it that the words were so beautiful that it read like a poem. Felix turned to me and said, “Mum, it’s not a poem, it’s a song I wrote for her.”
Felix posted this little song on his blog today (he would love you to have a look) as well as writing it for her in a card. I wonder if he will sing it to her.