A long, long time ago, in a land far away (Iowa), a little girl used to ride her bike from her warm and cozy little Cape Cod house, away from her no-more-than-usually dysfunctional family, to the elementary school playground. The little girl knew another little girl, whose property adjoined the vast expanse of schoolyard. They’d talk and swing together, and once in a while, the older brother would come over on his bike and swing with with the girls. Soon, it became a habit. The girl would arrive to swing, and the brother and sister would come along and keep the girl company. The boy and girl could talk about most anything.
A couple of years passed and the boy asked the girl out to the movies. His dad had a really cool old Thunderbird, and would drive them hither and yon. The boy was always most polite. Time was not on their side though, and the boy went off to high school.
Another year would pass, and the boy learned to drive the Thunderbird. He asked the girl out on a car date. And then, he asked her on another. Soon, they had many dates and were attending events together. Corsages were involved. Herein, lies the girl's distaste for Carnations. Who the heck ever thought a Carnation was a real flower? Could any living thing be less attractive than a Carnation? But, I digress. They spent a lot of time tongue-tied and talking was no longer so easy, because what boy or girl that age knows what the heck they are doing?
Soon, the boy would sporadically find other pursuits that interested him greater. The girl would be left bewildered. This cycle would repeat itself over the course of a couple of years, the silences starting just before each Christmas, Valentine’s Day, or birthday.
Eventually, the girl gave up on the boy and conveniently forgot the English Leather she had saved to buy for him for the Christmas approaching under the seat of the car. The car, and the cologne, were crushed in the demo yard.
Eventually, the girl gave up on the boy and conveniently forgot the English Leather she had saved to buy for him for the Christmas approaching under the seat of the car. The car, and the cologne, were crushed in the demo yard.
Did you think it would have a Hallmark ending? Happy Valentine’s Day!
Published on: Feb 14, 2006
No comments:
Post a Comment