I wonder if you've had your first kiss yet. Have you? You don't have to tell me. But if you wanted to, I'd be the most happy to hear all about it.
I had my first kiss in third grade. It was in the tube slide on the playground with a boy named Jeff. It tasted like grape bubblegum and lasted for three seconds.
Jeff and I secretly kissed a lot that year. And then we kissed again in High School at Senior Prom. He wrote me a song that he sang in front of the whole school and I remember thinking I was lucky that the same boy who was my first kiss would also be my last because I was sure I was going to marry him.
I’m still not sure who I’m going to marry and I’m not sure when you’ll have your first kiss. Maybe you’ll be in third grade, like I was, and you’ll feel like you have to keep it a secret from all the grownups because they’ll say you’re too young to be interested in boys. Or maybe it won’t be until much later, like high school, and then you’ll have to ask uncle Nick what that’s like. Or maybe your first kiss will be with a girl. And that will be just fine, too — although I don’t have any good specific advice on that (but I think it's probably just the exact same).
No matter what, I’m sure you’ll have a lot of first kisses. And second and third kisses. And thousandth kisses, even. You’ll have good kisses and terrible kisses. And eventually you’ll realize, like I have, that a kiss is the quickest way to tell how you really feel about someone.
The good ones are like big magic.
Even the terrible ones count for something.
I love you, little one.