Chapter 2 - I fall in love with my 1st grade teacher

Chapter 2 – In love with my first grade teacher

When I was five years old, my mom and most of her friends were in their mid-40s or older. My kindergarten teacher was an old bat. When I walked into my first grade room, I fell in love. Here was Mrs. Martinis. She was cute. She was young – younger than any professional or frankly, any other woman in my life. She smiled at me. She was affirming. She talked in warm tones to me. She was beauty and nurture wrapped into one.
Mrs. Martinis became pregnant that year. I watched her body grow wonderfully rounder and fuller. And then she was gone. And then she was back.
Near the end of my first grade year, I was playing with Steve Hogland in my bedroom. We were tossing beanbags at the ceiling. The light fixture broke and a chard of glass fell on my face and cut it.
It was painful. I remember the doctor sticking a needle into my wound.
There remains a scar to this day.
At the time, I was more concerned about my last day of school.
I showed up with a huge bandage across my face.
It was embarrassing.
To make it the worst possible day – Mrs. Martinis was saying goodbye to the class for the last time.
She said, before saying goodbye, she wanted everyone to kiss her goodbye – on the lips.
Such was the innocence of those pre-bodily fluid-concerned days.
I was flushed with passion and excitement.
Today was the day I would kiss her on the mouth!
But then my heart fell.
I remembered the bandage.
As I approached her, she smiled.
And said – here, try here – and pointed to the side of her face.
I pushed my little lips out as far as I could to reach beyond the bandage.
It was a frustrating moment.