Growing up my parents always made fun of me for being boy crazy. It all started when I was two years old and attending a daycare down by the beach. One of my moms good friends was a teacher there and her grand daughter, Erica, attended the daycare as well. Erica and I were best friends for years and began to tell people we were sisters because that’s what it felt like we were. We did everything together. And apparently, we had the same taste in men. (2 year old men that is)
His name was (and is) Spencer M. He was adorable, funny, sweet and nice. At least I’m assuming this all to be true because this was more than twenty years ago and I don’t actually remember his personality at the time. I thought he was the cutest and best boy in the entire daycare, but so did all of the other girls, including Erica. This wasn’t a problem to our friendship though. I mean we were 2…
I wish that I remembered the following myself, but I have plenty of recounts from my parents to where I can imagine the scene. One year I decided I was over the games. It was time to get my man (boy). There was a large toy boat that was in the sandbox for the kids to play in and according to my parents this is where I had my first kiss. The best part about all of this is that, being the strong independent toddler that I was, I was the initiator in this lip-lock. Whether or not it was warranted/asked for/enjoyed by the male party is unsure. All I know is that at the ripe young age of toddler-hood I was already going after what I wanted.
I still know Spencer to this day and he is just as handsome, funny and nice as he was back when we were two. We are Facebook/Instagram friends and I receive a group Snapchat from him every once in a while, and I would be lying if I said that was the last kiss that him and I shared. He is a successful college graduate with a good family and close friends and I am proud to call him my first crush.