Frisbee with a Girl

The backyard of any daycare is a microcosm of human society really, and any particular day out there could've been very informative about why peace and harmony has so far eluded human society. Don't let anyone fool you, kids are "little adults" to a point. Sure they may look dumb and innocent, but behind those bigger heads, larger eyes, and smaller bodies, they are just as conniving, merciless, and buttheaded as the most hardened adult. It's just that adults have the whole world to play with... kids only have the confines of a backyard. Case in point, I think this story really gets at the heart of why there will never be peace and harmony between the sexes. The fact of the matter, as I have learned from bitter experience, is that girls are needlessly manipulative, and boys are just dumb jerks. Sound familiar?

Summers meant I was stuck at daycare on the days my parents worked, which meant long afternoons of heatstroke in the blazing backyard of the sitter's house with nothing but the occasional tube-Popsicle or hard plastic kiddy pool with more grass in it than water to give us some relief. Each day after lunch we were all just stuck out in the backyard like dogs to while away the hours with the clouds and the ants, and that was all there was. In any case, you can imagine why we might start getting on each other's nerves.

So there I was, about 8-years-old, scuffing the grass like a rearing bull, upset with a girl there because she had no intention of going along or playing off the arm of whatever grand make-believe movie I was trying to make with her, and at some point a Frisbee entered the equation. We tossed it back and forth at each other for a minute or so, and she just couldn't throw the thing right. It'd always end up rolling back somewhere toward the bushes and the trees, and I'd always have to go fish it out "because I was closer." This happened time and time again, so I began purposely throwing it wrong at her just to get back at her for her lame "girl-tosses."

"You throw like a girl!" (Yeah, those famous last words.) A bit of a shouting match ensued, so on one of her turns, she winged that thing with a perfect precision there-before unseen... and on target too, right between my eyes! Clonk!

It hit my face so hard I fell over backwards on the ground, and my eye and nose stung for a few minutes. She couldn't help from cracking up. And so there I lay on the grass, humiliated, and emasculated, which got me so enraged I stormed off to "tell on her." Here we go, I thought, let's see how she likes this! I really played it up too when I got to the sliding glass door: "she hit me on purpose!" I may have even tried to shed tears. But that sitter did the right thing. She said, "Oh don't be a crybaby. You're not hurt." And I swear the second she said that, the "pain" was gone.  

If only she'd been good at it, I thought, then I could say it was on purpose! Something told me she knew what she was doing all along.

Here's the lesson kids. This is why it's always a good idea for girls and boys to play together. That day I learned that when it comes to getting even with someone by hitting them with a Frisbee on purpose, two words reign supreme: plausible deniability. Girls know this by birthright. We boys learn it the hard way, if at all. Yeah, we think we're hot shits, but in fact, when it comes to girls bulls-eyeing grumpy boys, it's always 5 points for the arm, 20 points for the head!

I'm just lucky she didn't want to play the game of splits! 

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