French Kiss?

Sex, although a very adult action, is something in the back of people’s mind from an early age. We might not be aware of it, but a child’s curiosity inevitably leads to questions about sex.

Why do boys have wieners?

Where do babies come from?

Mom, why do you have hair there?

These are all questions I have asked my parents when I was a young child and it didn’t stop there. My questions went beyond asking my parents, as did the questions my peers had.

Growing up, my family was close with our neighbors. When my parents needed it, my neighbors would watch my siblings and I, and when the neighbors needed their kids watched, my parents would do the same. Between two houses and a duplex, there was 16 kids. It was great, we always had a blast playing together.

One moment I remember in particular was when my older sister Ashley, my neighbor Luke who was around my age, Luke’s older sister Hannah, and myself were watching TV. There was a kissing scene and after the kiss, the guy went to his friends to brag about it by saying, “I kissed her! Not even just a kiss, but a french kiss.”

Being only five years old at the time, I had no clue what a french kiss was, so the curious child that I was, I asked Ashley, “What’s a french kiss?”

Ashley’s response, “It’s kissing, but with tongue.”


The show continued. Luke and I were sitting on the floor waving our feet back and forth. His foot would hit mine, then I would hit his foot back. It was playful. Ashley and Hannah saw this and thought it was cute.

They chanted, “Luke and Kallie sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…”

“Stop!” I yelled, annoyed that they were making fun of us.

Our sisters giggled and stopped chanting. Luke and I stopped waving our feet and even put space between us. We continued watching the rest of the show. Then our sisters left to go do whatever it is they were doing, leaving Luke and I alone in the living room.

After several minutes passed, Luke broke the silence and asked me,  “Do you want to kiss me?”

“No,” I exclaimed. “Do you want to kiss me?”

There was a pause. Luke then asked, “Do you want to try it?”

I hesitated, then one upped him, “Want to try a french kiss?”

He agreed, then after a bit of deliberating, we decided the right way to french kiss was to count to three then stick our tongues out and touch our tongues together.


We simultaneously counted “One – Two – Three” and both of us stuck our tongues out and touched just the tips together. We both jumped back, scrunching our faces, completely grossed out by  our tongues touching one another. He spit from disgust, I grabbed my juice box and chugged it to wash out the taste of our french kiss.

Whether I knew it or not at the time, my curiosity about sex was blossoming at age five. I might not have been mature enough to know what sex is, but I wanted to know things. Sex is something I have always been intrigued by.

Until next time…


Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

2 thoughts on “French Kiss?

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