The Best Kiss Ever

I had my first real kiss when I was eight. It sounds awfully young, I know. The boy was only 9 and to this day I don't know where he learned to kiss like that. I remember thinking, "This is like in the movies."

Once I had a taste for it, that was it. I spent the next 10 years kissing as many boys as I possibly could (after that I discovered sex, but until then, it was all about the making out). I kissed boys in games of Truth or Dare and Spin the Bottle. Sometimes I made out with a guy once and neither of us spoke of it again. I once kissed an American boy in Cairo, Egypt. I kissed German boys. I kissed jocks, rebels and nerds. I made out with a man 20 years older than me. I kissed boys when I already had a boyfriend. One time I kissed a boy who was so Baptist, he cried afterward because French kissing to him was like sex before marriage, and I, Jezebel, had driven him to sin. I even kissed a girl once.

So last week, my 16 month old son kissed me for the first time. I totally cried. I've been asking for kisses for weeks now, but he'd only kiss his stuffed animals or my mom. Little Shit. But when I asked yesterday and expected the usual head shake and brush off, I was surprised by his sweet little face moving forward! His wet, drooly toddler lips pooched out in a pucker that would cause most adult humans to react with appropriate disgust. But this was my child. A human being that I pushed out of my body, covered in blood and shit. This real little person, related to me in a way no other man on this earth has been, reached out to kiss me.

And that was the best one. I don't see how it could be topped.

Unless I have grandkids someday...