Confessions of a Tomboy

Growing up, I was a serious tomboy. I hated dresses. They were uncomfortable and not functional. After all, it hurt my bare legs when I slid down the railing in a dress after church on Sundays. And I couldn't do flips on the monkey bars in a dress. I liked playing with cars. I liked sliding down the weed-covered gravel hill at school on my knees. My mom patched the knees of a LOT of jeans. I liked playing with the boys. They ran, they played with snakes, they got dirty. Girls were prissy and boring and played with dolls. In fact, I was such a tomboy that I was really bugged when we'd play Thundercats or Voltron (now you know I'm old!) and the boys made me be Cheetara or the Princess. Ugh.

Now, don't assume I didn't like the boys, just because I was a tomboy. Oh no. My first crush was on my four year old bestie, Jeff. And I've never stopped likin' the boys since. Well that's not true. Now I like the men. But I digress.

Here's where the confession comes in. When I was in the 5th grade, I had a dream. A goal. And a lofty one at that. This dream was a direct result of being a boy-crazy tomboy. We started to learn how to play touch football in P.E. I loved it! I especially loved it when one of the two boys I had a crush on insisted that the ball be passed to me for the touchdown. Anyway, I had this newly discovered love of football. Playing, watching college games on T.V. I got really into it for awhile. The two boys I was crushing on loved football, too. And so, a dream was born. I was going to be the first-ever female college football star.

Dreams change. But it still makes me laugh. In honor of the upcoming season opener, and to annoy my brother-in-law: Go Cougars!