So I realize this post is several months overdue... But since I never did get around to writing it, I thought I would do it now! It's never too late :)
I can't really remember having a constant crush on someone when I was growing up... I guess you could say that I wasn't very picky when it came to the male species, so really any boy who I thought was
"cute" was on my list. And yes, I had a list. There were several classmates on that list, mostly the rowdy boys who thought it was cool to grow their hair so long you couldn't see the top half of their faces, and who were also dressed head-to-toe in West 49 apparel. Ah, let's just say my taste has gotten slightly better, thank goodness. But one who especially caught my eye was a man - and I mean man, I wasn't picky about age either at this point... - by the name of Chris, who was a firefighter alongside my father. Although he must have been at least 20 years my major, it was
true love. I was almost sure of this, for whenever I tagged along with my dad to the firehall, I would almost always find myself thrown over Chris' shoulder and on my way head-first into the garbage can before he valiantly decided that this fate was much too horrific for a classy little lady like me. Yes, I really could pick 'em. Unfortunately, he decided to get married and have a couple kids, so that dream was quickly extinguished. Sigh, I will always wonder what could have been. Our romance could have revolved around piggy backs through the firehall and daily dunks into the child-sized garbage can. What more could a girl dream for?
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