Some People Never Grow Up!

That's what my husband said when I told him we were sharing first kiss stories.

I said, THANK GOODNESS! (then poked him in the eye).

I know it would be more mature to blog about the first black president taking office tomorrow, but I'd rather be sharing TMI with you guys.

Is that so wrong?


That's why I am officially deeming this week SPNGU (Some People Never Grow Up) week!

(Which is code for, let's be like Stupid Smart girl and clean out our closets--love that anaology--right here in FRONT of each other. )

Seriously, how can we have a road trip without TMI? It's part of the initiation into the shaka sistah-hood.

There were so many fun first kiss stories in my comment box yesterday. If you didn't share yours, FEEL FREE to drop it off tonight.

OR . . . post it on your own blog and drop the link in my comment box. I will link to it on my blog and then we will all come over to your place and laugh ourselves silly before we shake our heads and say, Some people never grow up!

Here's our first link from Lo, our lovely Southern Belle.

Click here to read about how a super hot French guy tried to kiss her and then told her to meet him in Paris.

And here's the photographic evidence:

Unfortunately Lo did not take the opportunity granted her to kiss and then meet this French dude in Paris, much to her ma's chagrin.

Sooooo, LO, THIS is your LUCKY Road trip! After we pick up Blogging Mama in Germany we will be making a stop in France to find your French dude.

The universe has spoken!

And then Alyson from New England comes forth with a story about her own smoldering French dude. It was much hotter then Lo's story as she had to use Kung Fun on her French dude to keep his wandering hands at bay.

More photographic evidence coming your way:


Ooh-la-la! Can someone say _ _ _ _ _ _ tension!

Upon careful examination of the two photographs you will clearly see that both Alyson and Lo shared the SAME smokin' hot French dude!

The double-crossin' French!

So, then Sandi tries to get in on the action with a boring story about a boring guy named Tony who kissed her at a gas station in broad daylight.

GONG!

But Anjeny thought it was the funniest story in the history of the world.

GONG!

Then April jumps in and tries to top French dude with a Latino dude, because everyone knows Latino dudes are more rico and more suave than two-timing French dudes.

Photographic evidence STAT:


Okay, this is Latino dude 34 years later. Imagine him with hair and acne and that's what he looked like when he was rico and suave. (He's still PRETTY DARN rico and suave, even without the acne.)

Okay, so who wants to see MY first kiss? Huh? Huh? Huh?

Okay, everyone gather around. Close your eyes until I say open.

Ready?


Okay . . . OPEN!

This is Brigham. And me. Way after we had fallen out of TLA.

This photo was taken after his mission. He asked me out one last time while my now-husband was on his mission, but I was truly/madly/deeply in love with my now-husband so it didn't go anywhere.

Brigham was my best friend's brother and part of our neighborhood brat pack when I was 13 years old. He was two years older and ten inches taller than me.

One night he snuck in my bedroom window.

Imagine me laid out casket-style with the covers pulled up to my neck, stiff as a board and goody goody as a gum drop.

"I've come to kiss you like no one has kissed you before," he declared.

"No one HAS kissed me before," I said.

"The better to kiss you like no one has kissed you before my dear."

(Okay I made all of that up for dramatic effect. I don't remember what he said. I just remember what I said.)

"You'll have to wait until I'm 16!"

That's what I said.

A few months later he moved to Weiser, Idaho. Before he left he pulled me aside and said, "I'm going to kiss you now like no one has ever kissed you before." (I don't remember if he said this either.)

"You'll have to wait until I'm 16!"

That's what I said.

A few months later my brothers and I made a trip to Weiser, Idaho to spend Thanksgiving. We went to a dance and I fell in love with Brigham to Christopher Cross' Sailing. It was my first slow dance. (Just added it to the BAA soundtrack.)

Before I left he pulled me aside and said, "NOW can I kiss you like no one's ever kissed you before?" (I know he did say NOW but I filled in the rest).

"I TOLD YOU, you'll have to wait until I'm 16!"

That's what I said. (I was annoying like that.)

Then he started writing me letters that said, I love you, I love you, I love you.

And he sent a photo that said, "You're a sweet, good lookin girl who I'll never forget."

(That was a lie, of course, he forgot about me years ago. But I fell for it GOOD AND HARD.)

Even though he turned out to be a player and made me miserable with love, I loved him with all the fourteen-year-old-fierceness I could muster.

Okay, now for the kissing part, which is why you're here, right?

Brigham and his sister came to P.R.O.V.O. for New Years Eve. He read my palm and then held my hand. He was sneaky that way.

Then he looked in my eyes--I looked away, of course, because I couldn't handle intimacy until I was thirty somethin--and while I was looking away he leaned in and kissed me with a grin.

Here's what I said about it in my journal:

It was a short kiss. I can't remember it too good. I think I missed his mouth. I'm not sure. I don't even know if he thinks I'm a good kisser.

(As you can see I've always been very articulate and poetic in love.)

Sadly, I was totally over him by Valentines Day.

And that was that.

Now for the TMI part

I also said this in my journal:

Maybe we ought to get engaged and then if we're still in love in ten years, we'll get married. Ten years ain't that long.

It's true. I actually wrote the word ain't and I wasn't joking.

And guess what else? Not only did I say the words neat and special far too frequently, I also said the word Pooh a lot!

Serves me right, I suppose, for publicaly judging my daughter for saying it.

P.S. Hey we have our official photographers for the Road Trip! New England Aly will hang out the van window and capture America as we jog by, and SHELLE @ Plush Moments will capture all of you jogging and cycling in your little shorts. She'll also do all the road trip choreography. She's cool as helk that way! And a tamn good photographer. I'll give everyone who follows her photog blog a hymn book. (Don't think I won't check.)