I fell in love a lot as a little girl. It all started with the boy down the street when I was in kindergarten. He had a great big tortoise and I was highly impressed that he owned such an exotic pet! My little parakeet seemed so boring in comparison. Then I fell for a classmate named Edmund in the 1st grade. He had a little mole on his chin like I did, so we were obviously soul mates. Each year brought a new school crush. I was completely boy crazy!
In my last year of elementary school, I found a crush outside of school. He was my paperboy and I was sure that we were going to fall in love and get married. You know, as soon as I found the courage to actually speak to him.
I would rush home from school every day and peek through the living room curtains, waiting for him (and his grandmother) to bike their way around my cul-de-sac tossing newspapers at everyone's door. Except ours. It made perfect sense that the first step to wooing my greatest love was to order his paper. How could a paperboy love a girl who didn't subscribe to his paper?! I begged and begged my mom to get a subscription. I can't remember if she did or not (I'm guessing that she did. She's cool like that.), but what she did do was tell the grandmother that I was crushing on her grandson! It happened one day when he was home sick and couldn't make his route and she had taken it over for him.
While I was hiding inside the house, completely mortified, my mom took it upon herself to get the scoop on the boy who had my heart. His grandmother was so tickled by my crush that she happily gushed about "the apple of her eye" which included vital info such as his name, age and where he lived.
His name may have been Michael. I really can't remember. To me, he was always Paperboy. He was the same age as me, and most importantly ... he lived on the next street over!
With this new found knowledge I ran to my bedroom which had a perfect view of the back of a two-story bluish grey Victorian-esque house on his street. Since I didn't have his exact address, I reasonably assumed that the dream house in our neighborhood belonged to him. And since I could see it from my window, I also reasonably assumed that he could see my window from his bedroom. We were so close to falling in love with each other, obviously ;)
His grandmother stopped by after school the next day, sans Paperboy, and gave my mom a Polaroid of him to give to me. Best grandmother ever, right?! He was posing and flexing his 5th grade muscles in black and neon green bike shorts - gotta love the early 90s fashion. Swoon! Again, I ran to my bedroom window and stared lovingly at "his" house.
This all happened right around the time that My Girl came out on VHS and I had the soundtrack memorized. Day after day, I blasted Hot Fun in the Summertime and Wedding Bell Blues as I looked at his picture and twirled around my room, always slyly peeking at the window to see if he was watching and swooning over me. In my imagination, he was!
This continued for months, and I still couldn't find the nerve to say "hi" to him. Little did I know that a child labor law was about to pass, making cute paperboys extinct. You snooze, you lose. A grown man in a truck started delivering the paper, and I was in a 10-year-old-girl fit of rage. My mom called the newspaper and found out that children were no longer able to deliver papers.
That was the end.
Until the premiere of Disney's Wake, Rattle and Roll, that is! The star looked strikingly similar to Paperboy and the show helped fill the void left in my heart. We moved to Oregon shortly thereafter and I had to leave my paperboy and bluish grey Victorian-esque house behind. But I could watch Wake, Rattle and Roll anywhere.
Coming up next: "Five of your favorite blogs and what you love about them."