I hereby dedicate this Valentine's Day to two of my ex-boyfriends, Brady and Jerel.  I use the term boyfriends very, very loosely because we were in the 3rd grade.  But I thought I was in love.  With both of them.  Yes, even at that young an age, I was "boy crazy", as my parents say.

I would have Jerel as my boyfriend, let him buy me things - necklaces, candy, plastic toys, wear his "Coweta Tigers" jacket with his name embroidered on the front, let him walk me home from school.  Then, I suppose Brady would pique my interest and I'd push Jerel to the side and let Brady do all those things for me.  I would switch back and forth between them on a monthly basis.  They were both my boyfriends and I saw nothing wrong with that.

One Valentine's Day, I got a big frilly box of Whitman's chocolates from Jerel.  I was thrilled!  About an hour later, I got another big frilly box of Whitman's chocolates from Brady.   Instead of being thrilled again, for some reason, I told him, "oh, no thanks. I already have one of those."

He cried.

And then he told his mom, who promptly called my parents and I got in trouble for breaking his little heart.  My parents drove over and picked him up, took him to dinner with us, and I accepted his chocolates.  I held his hand in the back seat.  Then my parents yelled at me for being too fresh, so I stopped doing that.

After about 5th grade, I never spoke to Brady or Jerel again.  They were becoming the cool kids while I was becoming the "oh-my-god-look-at-her-hair-let's-ignore-her" kid.  It was that way all through high school, too...but that's another blog.

I saw Jerel at the 10-year reunion and he mentioned our 3rd grade relationship.  He called me a little player.  Then he pushed his date to the side and told me how good I looked all grown up.

That's right. Eat your heart out, boys.  Oh, and did I introduce you to my girlfriend?