Kim was never to be mine, except in my fantasies.  But she was an important step in my socialization.  Because those fantasies, now readily shared with my male friends around campfires and at sleep overs, became an increasingly important bond between us in the years to come.  As my interest in sports and other mainstream pursuits waned, my conversations and relationships with other males revolved primarily around our individual quests for the perfect woman.

Bouncy!  That's pretty good.    I remember one camp out in particular, a weekend at Scott Lake.  The sixth grade boys stayed up until the proverbial wee hours of the morning, throwing logs on the campfire.  We talked about sex, what little we knew about it, and about the girls we liked.  I said I liked Kim because she was “bouncy,” a reference to her precocious development.  The other boys agreed with my appraisal and admired my way with words.
     “Bouncy!” chuckled Peter Kissinger.  “That’s pretty good.”

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