Hard Knox.

Remember how tough life was in primary school?
Dodging the emotional land mines that were the 5 minute whirlwind romances. Having to hold hands with a buddy whilst walking to and from official school functions like lunch, or assembly. Life was hard back then, especially in those first couple of years, as any four or five year old will tell you.

I myself was proposed to in the unisex toilets of reception. I was washing my hands after a papier-mâché morning, and suddenly a second pair of hands appeared next to mine. The conversation went a little like this:

“Will you marry me?”
“Do I have to?”
“Well, ok then”. 

And it was love. Our nuptials were announced in a game of Chinese whispers and it was official. The date was set and the plans in motion, my friends even began making daisy chain bunting for the ceremony. Until…heartbreak struck.
Little over 2 hours later, he pushed in front of me in the lunch queue. I instantly felt a fool. I had been played by the biggest player of them all and completely taken advantage of. I broke off the engagement, vowing never to marry him ever again and storming off with my arms folded. Nobody messes ME around.

I have to admit, I was not the cutest of kids, but god damn, did I have style. How many kids do you know who can rock the coconut-box fringe-harry potter glasses-look? Let’s be honest, it doesn’t matter how hipster you think you are, it’s a gift. For a while, I even went toothless, after an unfortunate first ever visit to the dentist…

My itchy, woollen cardigans were too big for me (obviously rocking the casual, these-are-my-boyfriends-clothes-look), and my socks were unmercifully white beneath my limited edition leather sandals from Clarks. But nevertheless I still made a stand against the misogynistic attitude adopted by the boys, even if that engagement had been my best and only offer…

All the blokes came and went from my life in a flash after that. I was so lonely at one point I considered holding hands with just about anybody. There was the smelly kid (who either ran a marathon everyday or just didn’t wash), the sweaty palm kid (who I would always embarrass by screaming “Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwww” and pulling away instantly), and finally there was the fainter (no longer an acceptable way of getting out of a date, guys). This lack of suitors also meant that my only date to the teddy bear picnic was Big Bear himself, and although he may have had excellent banter and fantastic stories, it just wasn’t the same. 

So next time, when you think those kids have got it all, think again – it isn’t all swings and roundabouts. Now, things are a little more mature, relationships are easier to understand, skin’s a little thicker. I’m not saying it gets easier, but we now have the gift of experience. When you get dumped at 24, it just wasn’t right. When you get dumped at 4, you are a social outcast. A love pariah. 

So look on the bright side – at least they don’t have sweaty palms!



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