I met my first heartthrob, Richard Thurber, in kindergarten. It was January, nineteen sixty something, and Richard was beautiful.
We had just moved to Katy, Texas. Being the youngest of four, my mom took me, in tow, as she registered my three older siblings for school. Mom was a pro at the process; she repeated it numerous times every year as we moved with the changing assignments of my dad’s job. Knowing that you only have one chance to make a first impression, my two brothers and sister had on their best school clothes. Starched. Pressed. Perfect. Hair combed (Butch-Waxed for the boys). Shoes shined. They made a grand impression … and so did I. Mom, running low on time (and probably patience, and energy), loaded me in the car … as is … Pajamas still on. Hair resembling a Wishnick Doll. Breakfast lingering on my face.
I remember walking into the principal’s office. His desk was massive, my eyes barely peaking over the desktop that supported a thick glass protector casting a unique green hue around the edges. I was in awe! After visiting with my mother, the principal asked if I wanted to attend kindergarten (we had never lived in a district that offered it). Yes! Yes! Yes! I wanted to go to school. My mother agreed and planned to bring me back the next day. The principal insisted that I start immediately. I am sure he took one look at me and decided to rescue a pitiful and neglected child. And so began my educational career: in PJs, hair standing on end, and a, now, midmorning snack on my cheeks. I Did Not Care! I did not care how I looked. I did not care that I was half a year behind everyone else. I did not care that I didn’t know a soul in the classroom. I only cared that I was starting school!
Obviously, Richard did not care, either (remember, he was beautiful). We became fast friends. He opened doors for me, rolled out my mat at naptime (yes, beside his), and shared stories of our adventures with his family. A gentleman at 5 years old. We were cool 1960s kindergarten kids. He called me Chickie and I called him Big Daddy.
I want to be Chickie-like again. I want to jump at opportunities, not care what others think, and surround myself with people that accept and value me as I am, PJs and all.
