Thursday, December 17, 2009

"Sing Heav'nly Muse, that on the secret top Of OREB, or of SINAI, didst inspire That Shepherd, who first taught the chosen Seed"

As I mentioned in my last entry, I do not remember many of my adolescent days. So, with the horrific memory that Kickball Frog dispatched my way, I must have all together avoided frogs for many years. Oh, there was one boy I had a crush on in third grade, but when I peed my pants in line and my best friend announced it to the class, my hopes for any dreamy plans with him ended abruptly with the words (loudly might I add), "Oh my God, you peed your pants." To this day, I have much sympathy for any child who has an accident. Indubitably, she was no longer my friend after I slapped her square in the face and was sent to the office. God answered my or any child's prayer after this kind of incident by having our family relocate to another city (not because I peed my pants, but because of an occupational opportunity...but I was indebted all the same).

Between fourth and fifth grade, I went through that chubby phase that some children go through. I used to hear the family whisper 'baby fat,' but all I heard was 'fat.' No frogs hopped after me and to be honest, it was for the best. The frogs where we lived wore baggy pants down to their ankles and thought that shrieking whistles and clown-like heckling out of their cars as they drove by were arousing. I was more petrified than ever (we didn't live in the nicest of neighborhoods) that a frog might jump on my back and abduct me away to some marsh where a Run DMC record was set to 'repeat.'

Between elementary and middle school, I found solace in swimming. I swam everyday and emerged at the end of the summer, a swan. A super skinny swan, but a swan nonetheless. When I returned to school, many people did not recognize me and I was off to a great start. There were many frogs during middle school, but none really broke my heart to the point of truly, madly, deeply broken heart. Instead, I met royalty.

It was a beautiful sunny day when we showed up in (insert city and country that shall remain nameless for anonymity). I was so excited to be out of L.A. and have a weekend of fun. I did have fun that weekend. More fun than I had ever remembered. I met a prince. He was all that I had dreamed of...curly hair and everything, just like the boy on 'Growing Pains.' (It was my favorite show at the time and the main actor was dreamy.) I had actually met him years earlier when we were wee kids, but this was not the little boy I had remembered. He was breathtaking, smart, innocent, sweet and had every wonderful quality I could want at that young moment in my life.

After walks and talks, all innocent, on the beach for the brief period I was visiting, I was convinced I had just spent the most amazing time of my life with the most amazing prince I could imagine. Unfortunately, our families did not agree and the chagrined looks were enough to stop a friendship that was blossoming in its tracks. Upon leaving paradise, I dramatically ran up to my prince and folded my most prized possession into his hand. I told him to keep in touch no matter what happened and that the next time I would see him, he would give it back to me. Wow, you thought I was theatrical in Second Grade! (I watched a lot of drama...I blame my mother, partly for making me watch "The Thornbirds" mini-series every year on T.V. and partly for making me stay up all night to watch Princess Diana and Prince Charles wed.)

Inside his hand, I delicately placed my mother's engagement ring that she had given me just a few months before on my birthday.

But, that's me. Dramatic, wide-eyed looking for love, looking for my prince, in love with love...kind of like that girl in "He's Just Not That Into You." The monumental problem is that us girls are brought up on fairy tales like 'Cinderella,' 'Sleeping Beauty," "Snow White," and on and on. All of these fantasies tell us that if we just sit pretty, no matter how disagreeable our lives are, the prince will always come and rescue us in the end. What????? This is not true!!!! How dare Disney ruin us precious girls like this. This is exactly why I read "The Paper Bag Princess" to kids all of the time. It's about a girl who...well, you have to read it, it's hilarious and I wouldn't want to ruin it for you. That author should be commended.

Yes, close your mouth. I gave away the ring my mother had thoughtfully given me to a boy I hardly knew. She didn't find out until a few years ago what really happened to that ring because I couldn't bare to tell her. I had lied and told her I had lost it. With that, I'm sure you guessed I never got it back from my prince, therefore, never saw him again.

I never heard from Ring Frog that summer. I didn't hear from him the summer after that or the summer after that. I looked up his name in the phonebook, but back then we didn't have google or Facebook, so it wasn't easy. But, I tried. I tried really hard and I held onto that memory of a two-second innocent kiss.

It broke my heart because I really felt something special and to quote Taylor Swift "When you're fifteen and someone tells you they love you, you're gonna believe them...When you're fifteen and your first kiss makes your head spin round." I wasn't yet fifteen, but you get the point.

Now, you would think this would end with a lesson learned, and there was, but because of confidentiality, I can't reveal the lesson I learned...all I can say is that I never heard from Ring Frog again...

...until the day my phone rang at age twenty-three while I was painting my toe nails and I answered "Hello". The moment I heard "Hello" on the other line, I knew Ring Frog had found his way back.

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