Kindergarten Kent

I was thinking today about how in kindergarten I and my friends had a fascination with seeing the underwear of every girl in my class. This was the train of thought that triggered this remote memory:

1. Thinking of stuff to blog about
2. Young romances are always entertaining/funny
3. Girls I liked in junior high/elementary
4. First one I liked was Anne Tyson, in kindergarten
5. I saw her underwear once
6. Why are boys fascinated with the sight of underwear?
7. I should blog about this, RIGHT NOW, before I forget

I was in the afternoon class, with Mrs. Adams. Mrs Adams was ridiculously nice, as every kindergarten teacher is (Miss Levine in 1st grade was a rude awakening). This was my first experience with a bunch of kids my age, and a whole new bunch of girls.

There was the bully, too. This chubbster named Andy Sheldon who thought he would muscle his way to all the quality construction paper and the best scissors. Of course, the scissors that skinny, young Kent would end up with were those kind that is so dull that I might as well use the "karate-chop" motion of the side of my hand. Also, I never got the whole pieces of construction paper, only the remains that already were cut-up/mangles. Because of this, my hand-turkeys were usually one finger short of a fist.

I wasn't a glue eater, more of a marker sniffer. Especially the permanent markers, those were delicious. Remember when the flavored markers came out and they actually smelled like apples and oranges? Greatest invention EVER.

I was usually the main boy being chased in "Girls Chase Boys", probably because I was so dagnabbed cute. I wasn't a fan of "Boys Chase Girls" because the girls were so easy to catch, it's like they weren't even trying.

I'm not sure how long it took me to notice Anne Tyson, but when I did, I was smitten. She was the cutest girl in the world. I noticed she lived right across the street from the school, so she had a really nice commute.

As much as I probably stared at Anne, her underwear was the most elusive to see. Some girls hiked up their underpants so high that there was a good 2 inches of underwear visibility between their shirt and their pants. The best time for underwear sightings was during story time, which was frequently on the carpet, sitting Indian-style. Once we sat down, we would take a survey of all the girls' waistlines, looking for the tale tell stripe of white that frequently denoted UNDERWEAR. Once this was spotted, the spotter would relay the good news through the congregation of boys sitting on the back row for maximum underwear viewing. Once it was confirmed, we would check the girl off of the "Underwear sighting list".

It took almost the whole year to see Anne's unmentionables, and she was the last on my list. She was always well put-together, her pants cinched up the appropriate height, her shirt down to the pants, and the underwear well-covered. Then one day, it happened: they were pulled up just a smidgen too high, and I saw a good 1/16th of an inch. My list was complete.

The next year I moved on to the 1st grade, where I realized that underwear, while still funny, was not as hilarious as it once was. I had matured. Although I do recall when Hillary Lewis's dress was caught in the fence next to the baseball field, and ALL of her underwear was on display. A crowd of at least 20 boys had gathered around, none helping to get her out, everybody just staring in delight. She just sat there, crying and crying. It took about 15 minutes before The Duty came and saved her.