A bit more vague than my last escapade/story, this one is just as brilliant on my part. You know, cause kissing a turtle worked out so well for me. Well, my next mishap wasn't quite as high on the Bad-Idea-Scale, as there were no reptiles involved. Biting or otherwise. However, it turns out that dancing with your 7 year old best friend is almost as bad as turtle-smooching. The setting: the outdoor playhouse my dad built for me. The cast: J [let's not name names, shall we] age 7, and myself age 6. The idea: Hey let's pretend we're grown-ups and "dance" together. It started out fine, very simplistic ballroom style twirling...and then it went south. We went from harmless spinning to me being lifted in the air and twirled - for all of maybe 3 seconds before he dropped me. On my head. On the concrete foundation of my playhouse. ...

And that pretty successfully annulled my first crush.