First Grade

I've told this story umpteen times I'm sure, but in first grade there was a girl named Christy that I had a huge crush on. She had the longest hair in the classroom, a beautiful shade of brown that went straight down her back and to her behind, and big blue eyes. I asked her to be my girlfriend, and she told me she was already the girlfriend of this kid Bobby. From that point on I hated Bobby, and who do you think was the name I drew for the Christmas gift exchange? It was Bobby's. I didn't want to get him anything. I distinctly remember telling my grandma when she asked me what I wanted to get him, saying, "Nothing. He stole my girlfriend!" Well, I'm paraphrasing as I can't remrember the words exactly, but that's close. She gave me a lecture about Christian charity or some such, and so we went to the store and I picked out the ugliest toy I could find--an old-timey looking car that was horrid shade of orange-yellow and had a green top. For all I know Bobby liked the car, but I got some satisfaction from the fact that I despised it. All true.