Memories from the Forgetful

I don't know how many of you have noticed. I am never sure how it looks to other people or if people even pay attention. I have something on my face. Well, a few things on my face. I have many moles, many many moles. ("MANY, MANY POGS!!!", a different story for a different time. Wait, but do you guys remember pogs? I loved pogs. Ok, I digress.)
See Exhibit A:

Why, hello mole! Nice of you to show up! I was just talking about you.
I don't know how many people experience talk about their moles but I have a few memories surrounding them. So, odd or not, I will share them with you now.
(Side note worth mentioning. My friends and I used to count all visible moles in class when we were bored, one time we got up to 50 or so.)
Memory #1 "Bus Mole" (See... I'm creative with my titles, because this one happened on a bus.)
In elementary school I would ride the bus to and from school every day. When I was in the 5th grade I finally got to sit in the back of the bus. That's something you had to wait for on our bus, like a privilege meant for the older kids. Less supervision and more goofing off happened at the back of the bus, so it was obviously the best place to be.
I went to a public school and I don't know if it's any different than private school, but all the boys started talking about kissing when they were around 10 or so. (Sorry to all of you mothers of boys around 10. It happens, your boy talks about kissing or at least thinks about it. Sorry if I burst some bubbles there.) KISSING!!! Yuck! I was a tomboy and kissing did not cross my mind... well rarely crossed my mind. But there was this boy on my bus who was obsessed with kissing. He would make smoochie sounds at me and ask to make out and I would cringe at the thought.
I would say "I would never kiss you. That's like totally gross."
I REALLY did not want to kiss this boy, EVER!
One day as I was getting off the bus I felt a tug on my shoulders from behind me. I didn't turn around, because I knew it was Mr. Kissy-Face. I tried to keep walking but he wouldn't let go of my shoulders. I finally pulled away from him and turned around to give him a nasty look and he jumped up and kissed me. Oh, my heart sank as he quickly popped up into my face and took a quick peck. Wait, did he just.... Yes, he missed. I ran off the bus as all the boys around him were laughing and I remember sprinting down the stairs and onto the pavement with the boy behind me, Mr. Kissy-Face, screaming "Yeah, I kissed her mole!!" Uhhhhhh... weird.... does it count as a first kiss if it was on the mole? I'm not sure, but that was one of the most horrifying experiences I had on any bus ride, EVER!
After that story I need some time to process. Grieve my mole virginity. I have an even more traumatizing one for tomorrow. Come back for Mole Saga #2 tomorrow, with an even more creative name. "Mole Buddha". Are you curious?