I remember being in a car, young, fourteen maybe, and my friend had his arm raised to point at something he was telling me about.  Through the arm-hole of his shirt I could see that he had hair on his underarm.  I looked – I had none myself, and didn’t know it was a possibility.  He caught me, I made an excuse that I was looking out the window, and not at him, and then the topic changed.

-21 July 2015

This post is part of the I Remember series.