When I was in preschool, I had a crush on this boy we'll call Bruce Manley. Well, it seems that Bruce was a little confused; he liked me as well as my best friend Sarah. So Bruce had an idea -- he told us to line up back to back, and he would ultimately date the girl who was taller "forever and ever."
In all of my four-year-old being, I was ready for the Bruce commitment. But I was one of the smallest in the class, and I knew I was screwed, but I backed up to Sarah and stood on my tiptoes anyhow, stretching with all of my might, hoping for some sudden, divine miracle. I thought if I closed my eyes tightly, maybe, just maybe, God would make me grow right then. Or if not God, maybe a unicorn could help me out with its magic.
For what seemed like an eternity, Bruce held up his hand, measuring our toddler heights. Not sure why he took so long, because Sarah was clearly about two inches taller than me. But he kept muttering strange half-words, like, "Hm," holding up his hand, and checking our measurements.
Eventually, when Sarah and I began to shift around and say things like, "Come on," Bruce announced the winner -- Sarah, of course.
Defeated, I moved to the side and dug my hand in the vat full of dry macaroni. Not sure why that was there, but in that preschool room, there were several bins full of strange substances, and I suppose it was for sensory development, I dunno, but I clearly remember the feel of it -- cool, strange, lovely, and weirdly familiar.
By then, Sarah and Bruce were standing next to each other, but there was about a foot of space between them.
I watched them, wondering what they would do next since they were suddenly a couple. I thought they might hold hands or hug or head over to the Legos. I was sure that something big was coming.
But they just stood there, and the gap between them remained, and I remember thinking, I'm glad I have this macaroni, so I don't look dumb. And then I realized something else...down the way, there was this boy playing with the toy circus train, and I had never seen such a tall, plastic giraffe, not to mention the lion with jointed legs and a tail that spun around. So I headed over to check out the caboose.
Guess I wasn't the tallest or the winner, and oftentimes, I'm not, when it comes to the storybook end. But even at 43 years old, on my desk, my pen holder is a tin in the shape of R2D2, and my backpacks are Wonder Woman and My Little Pony, and the other day, I stole a basketball from some kid at the park for a minute when he wasn't looking, and I'm certain that on that fateful day when Bruce picked Sarah, God or a unicorn taught me this: never, ever forget how to play.
C.A. MacConnell
