There we stood, a bunch of ten-year-old boys huddled on the playground, just as we always did when discussing our football game. Football was—and still is—a huge deal in Stone Gate, Kansas, and we allspent a lot of time plotting our next big play. To be honest, we probably spent more time planning than actually playing.
But this conversation was different. I heard the words, but didn’t understand what they meant. They certainly weren’t discussing football and everyone was speaking in hushed tones.
“Did you see her?”
“Which one? Kari?”
“Yeah! Maria had one on, too!”
The boys giggled and I tried to follow along, although at that time I had no idea what they were talking about. I wanted to ask, but even at my young age I somehow knew, if I did, I would only be laughed at. So I pretended to understand, giggling right along with them. Funny how young we are when we first learn tohide a part of ourselves in order to fit in.
“I think Dawn has the biggest ones!”