When Brooke and McKenzie asked me to do a guest post for them, I was thrilled. Ask me to explain Pythagoras’s theory; I probably couldn’t. Ask me to give a stranger directions to the shops.. I still probably couldn’t, despite living around here for a long while. But dating? I have had so many dating disasters that I could write you a book. I have an affinity with the girls as it seems that despite them being located on the other side of the pond; they have the same daily issues with boys as we Brits do.
Men are like a different species, and I am to men what David Attenborough is to wildlife. Absolutely fascinated. I find boys entirely strange, and as a result I have had some really interesting experiences, had my heart broken, broken some hearts, and spent a LOT of time with my housemates dissecting the intricacies and nuances of a different species.
But us girls are the same really aren’t we, which leads me onto my topic. Childhood crushes. They are always a bit weird, and that cute kid that lived next door might have turned into a socially backward, spotty computer geek with a penchant for bird watching, but you will always have a soft spot that will make your friends think that you need your head testing.
I have two. Both are normal lads and neither of them falls into the above category, but my sister is completely dumbfounded as to why I would like either.
The first is a lad who was a year older than me at school. He, his sister and his younger brother lived in the house above us on the hill, so our gardens backed onto each other and there was a hole in the fence, perfect for me and my sister to climb through to go and visit. They lived there for years and I always found a reason to go and play, until someone boarded up the hole and my heart broke. (I was about seven, and not allowed to walk the way to the front door as it was deemed too far away.) My poor little seven year old self was further distraught when something terrible happened. The family moved away.
Over the years Mother Superior has given us various updates on how they were all getting on, as she visits the mum for coffee every now and again, and bumps into her when doing the weekly shop on the supermarket, as mums do. And this year, boy who lived up the road through the hole in the fence got married. It was a sad day.
Childhood crush number two is slightly closer to home and therefore a whole heap more embarrassing. My dad’s best friend had two children, a girl and a boy, and we used to play with them as kids. Even as a child I used to come over all unnecessary and blushy around said lad, who is only a few months younger than me, and I remember a specific incident where I got a good old telling off from my dad, due to doing something specifically because he was. They had a scaletrix (coolest thing ever) set up in the attic, but there was no ladder so you had to pull yourself up, and then jump down. I am scared of heights, so the idea of jumping out of an attic near a flight of stairs made me terrified. Of course I went up there anyway, because everyone else was and I didn’t want to miss out which resulted in me getting stuck, and my father having to come rescue me.
Anyway, back to the present, and I still come over a bit unnecessary. We now talk to each other (praise be to facebook!) and have nearly met up on occasion, but I’m sure it would bring mirth to my family to discover that I would even GO TO A FOOTBALL match on the off chance that I might bump into him. My sister loves this, often saying “but really? He is a little bit girly. Are you sure? I don’t see it” and “you are an idiot. He would eventually find out that you totally are not down with football matches!” my response being that in my hypothetical fantasy relationship, he would have by that point realised I am fantastic and not care that I am slightly higher maintenance than football matches in the rain. Ahem.
If only those clever scientists could think of medicine for us to take to turn us back into sane and capable people, and not metal cases with unnecessary crushes!
Childhood crushes that convert into adulthood are always the worst!! Have you got a good one?
You can read more by Tinkerbelle on her wonderful blog at Laughter is Catching .