A Giant Waste of Helium...

When I write a book on my life it's going to be call "Three Half Shovels and a Story." Don't worry about why, I'll explain it in the book. One of the chapters will be called "Middle School: A Huge Embarrassing Failure"

Here's a sneak preview of that chapter...

In 7th grade I had a monumental crush on a blonde-haired beauty named Candace. We had a class together, rode the same "piece of cheese" to school, and we were both long jumpers on the on the track team. She was tall, blonde, and -- well, at 13 that was pretty much all that mattered to me. That and whether or not she lived within bike riding distance.

I hesitated to flirt with Candace for fear of making a fool of myself. I'm pretty sure every guy between 13 and 15 has this fear about women at some point. However, I was determined that come Valentines day it was game on. Somehow, someway, I was gonna tell her, and show her, how I felt.

So I did what any love-struck adolecent would have done... I went to my mother for advice. I tried to downplay it, but I'm sure she saw right through my slurry of falsehoods: "Mom I only like her as a friend," "Mom, seriously, she's just a good friend," and "Mom, I'm on the track team with her and she doesn't have a lot of friends so I'm just trying to be nice." haha.

My mom took me to Walgreens, the mecca for last minute gifts of love, and we came home with a white and pink coffee mug, some hershey kisses, and a handful of heart-shaped helium balloons. The next day I had my mom drop me and my balloons off at school so I could avoid all contact with Candace until after school. Upon arrival I immediately took my gift to the front office and found out that I was far from the only guy trying to hide his romantic side until the final bell rang.

When the final bell did ring I nervously made my way to the office, grabbed my cup full of kisses with attached balloons, and even more nervously made my way to the bus. I stood just outside the the doors to the big cheese and took a deep breath. This was it. This was the moment I'd played out in my head at least 30 times during math class that day. I stepped onto the bus and spotted her looking down at something. As I began walking towards her seat comments flew in from all directions: "Scott, who gave you those gay balloons," "Oh man, why are you carrying pink balloons," and a few others that aren't exactly family friendly. Despite their uneducated efforts to make me feel stupid, I remained focused on my goal, and continued my nervous stroll towards Candace.

When I reached the row she was seated on I stood there shaking like a hairless hamster in an icepond. Then it happened... we made eye contact. My mind went blank, and the only words that made their way out of my mouth were, "Candace, this is for you." I held the mug in my outstretched hands for what seemed like minutes. But after only a few seconds she slowly pushed the mug back towards me and said in a rather stearn voice, "Scott, I don't want it!"

Put yourself in my shoes. What would you do in this situation? Would you find the nearest open seat, sit quitely, and deal with what was bound to be an epic session of ridicule?

I wasn't about to float that boat so I turned around as fast as I could and headed straight for the exit, still holding her gift. I could hear people laughing but I paid them little attention. It was roughly 2 and a half miles from the school to my house. I carried that mug, those hershey kisses, and those "gay balloons" all the way home.

Now this story has a great ending, and as a partial continuation of mother's day, It's time for another shout-out to my mom. My amazing mother was sitting at the kitchen table when I arrived home yielding the same gift she'd dropped me off with that morning. She didn't even ask me what happened. She just gave me a big hug, asked if I was ok, and only minutes later as I sat there eating "Candace's" hershey kisses, worrowing in my own self-pity, she took off to the store to by me a gallon of my favorite chocolate milk! What a mom!

And this, my friends, is only a taste of why middle school was a huge embarrassing failure. Stay tuned for more when "Three Half Shovels and a Story" hits the shelves in 2012. hahaha! PEACE!