From the Notebook of Ben Hoffman, Child Anthropologist

Observations. Day 10, Friday
From my outpost in the treehouse above Sandbox 4

The Swing Incident

Timmy claimed that he had counted to thirty, but Bobby knew otherwise. Timmy hadn’t separated his numbers according to the schoolyard’s established precedent. So it was that Timmy yelled “my turn!” while Bobby was only at ten bananas, and Bobby was sure as hell not ready to give up the swing with twenty bananas to go. “No!” yelled Bobby, “it’s still my turn.” Timmy, thinking quickly on his toes rebutted with “pig fucker!” sending the playground into silence.

There was some history between the boys. The two were close friends until an unfortunate accident during a game of TV tag left Timmy’s younger sister drowned in a pool of her own blood and legos. Bobby thought they were even after Timmy accepted his generous “two Kudos bars and a Lunchable for baggie of celery” deal, but Timmy wasn’t satisfied.

Now, with Bobby refusing to give up the swing, Timmy saw his opportunity for revenge and leveled the worst insult he could think of on the spot, “pig fucker.” This in itself would not have been that offensive, however only a week earlier Bobby had indeed fucked a pig.

Bobby, with his reputation hanging in the air above a gathering crowd, was in need of a comeback. Down, and not willing to take any risks, Bobby resorted to the tried and true “Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words can never hurt me.”

Bobby was confident; never before had this defense been cracked. He remembered many times when he claimed to be rubber and his attacker glue, but that inevitably ended up with him being unable to receive the wealth of compliments bestowed upon him by the attacker’s quick change of heart.

He also knew that the formerly classic “I know you are, but what am I” response hadn’t worked since two years earlier when Jamie Vesterbule and Craig Saunders became deadlocked in loops of this technique for 85 hours straight before both finally succumbed to dehydration. Plus, Bobby really had fucked a pig.

“Words can never hurt me” seemed like the safest way to go…but Timmy had anticipated such a response. Without a second’s hesitation Timmy threw a dictionary squarely into Bobby’s face, sending the unsuspecting boy sprawling off of the swing-set and into a growing puddle of sand, blood and tears.

A hero was born.

Observations. Day 11, Saturday

Still can’t get out of this treehouse.