Christmas Memory: Mistletoe Magic

When I was growing up in Campbell, CA, I had a best friend that lived on my block. His name was Shawn. Think Ricky Schroder from Silver Spoons and you just about have a perfect image of him. Our parents were friends and we spent our early years playing in the neighborhood, at his house or mine or somewhere in between. That was the '70's when block parties and swingers were big- though to my knowledge, none of those "adult" parties our parents threw were the kind where you leave your keys in the bowl and go home with someone different than who you came with. (Mom, you'll have to clear this up for everyone.)

Does this ever happen to you? I often think I am telling a story that was made up by my overactive imagination. Particularly when it comes to childhood. It is as though I have seen too many photos to be able to discern what is real and what is imaginary. Or as though I have heard the story so many times from family that it has become true.

Where was I going with this? Oh right. Shawn. I always had a crush on Shawn. Even as a really little girl, I was enamored. Hello, he was a little Ricky Schroder! I can only hope, for his sake, he grew up handsome like his celebrity likeness. I remember one Christmas very distinctly- The 70's green painted kitchen. The smell of Christmas cookies baking. My Mom in a holiday apron. In the photo I have, Shawn and I are leaning on the kitchen counter, facing each other under the mistletoe. Him with his white blonde hair cut in a bowl cut, me with my honey colored locks dangling in curls, both of us smiling for the camera with the mistletoe hanging above us. This was the moment of my first kiss.

It was just a kiss between two kids, two friends from the neighborhood- innocent enough but it was magical to me. Oh how I loved Shawn. Later, as we entered the awkward pre-teen years, he had become Mr. Cool, praciticing his breakdancing moves with his friends on a piece of cardboard on the sidewalk in front of his house. They'd play their music and dance for hours, taking turns doing tricks. I'd watch from two houses down, trying not to be too obvious, feeling very aware of my crush. I'd play "Let's Hear it for the Boy" from the Footloose soundtrack over and over as my song to him. Obviously, I was a royal dorkus but then, who isn't at that age? Please tell me you were a dork too. And while you are at it, a holiday memory from you childhood.