But I didn't understand it, really, mostly because girls were so different from me (mostly) and annoyed the crap out of me (mostly). They played with dolls and didn't throw rocks at each other and mostly screamed and cried when you threw rocks at them. They didn't play cops and robbers or cowboys and indians, and whenever I asked someone older than me what was the big deal about it, they always just told me to wait. When I got older I would understand.

 

It's kind of like how folks would tell me about the circus. They talked about big huge animals and clown cars and trapeze artists and it didn't sound like a big deal. Actually it sounded boring. I didn't need to see any of that. But then when you actually go to a circus, it's just, wow.

 

That's what puberty was like, for me, anyway. It was like the circus came to town, and all of a sudden I knew what the big deal was. I was like, hey I didn't know I could do that. I don't remember all the zits and tripping over my own feet, but I sure do remember what was going on in that center ring.

 

I know you can't see me, but imagine circus music right now.

 

The thing is, I guess, I kind of had to figure out stuff for myself, except for maybe that two-day health class we had in the fifth grade, which everyone was too busy giggling about to really learn anything. And it's not that puberty didn't have a lot of nice little surprises, but I wish I'd had a little warning. Which is why it surprises me that I don't have a better answer for my own sons when they ask me questions about girls than just to say "You'll understand when you're older."

 

Anyway, I forget where I was going with this.