With that being said, I figured I’d tell my poignant little story of my ingestion of mother earth, and how I more than stood my ground. As stated, I was all of five and at a horrid day care (the macaroni and cheese tasted like boll weevils), and I got picked on a lot because I was allergic to Vitamin C, my symptoms causing me to swell up like a big, red blowfish. So inevitably, all the other kids drank their cherry Kool-Aid with glee and passion and I had to sit there with a glass of whole milk and get made fun of. Thusly, a few of them decided I should have something substantial on my stomach before drinking it down one day. They lured me by telling me they had something special to show me by the side of the house, and I, being the happy-go-lucky little tyke I was (either that or I was just plain stupid) followed them out there, only to be grabbed by the back of the neck, shoved down to the ground, and told very firmly to grab a handful of dirt, which I willingly did thinking, “They like me, they really really like me!”. Those glorious fleeting moments of acceptance quickly vanished upon hearing the next words, “Now eat it!”. I remember glancing up at their amused, chubby faces and being quite perplexed, but then tentatively placing a good amount of the dirt in my mouth. “Now chew it!”. Might I say, it’s not as bad as some things I’ve tasted in life, but it was the texture which was displeasing (imagine eating gritty, ground up rubberbands, yum). To this day I still wonder if I caught the tail end of a worm. It was one of those surreal moments in my young life, there on my knees chewing dirt with confused children gathered around me. This incident, which would help to propel me into a tailspin of oddity for years to come, was my first real epiphany in life. As they stared with gaping mouths, it was quite obvious that my reaction wasn’t the one they’d hoped for, that of disgust or crying or even throwing up. I just sat there and happily chewed, experiencing every grain for myself as though I were a licensed dirt critic, there for the sole purpose of rating the dirt on a five star basis. The moment I swallowed, the kids slowly backed away from me. The bullying stopped, and I became somewhat of a playground hero from that day forward. I can’t quite figure out if it was the valor with which I ate the mud pie, or that they were a bit frightened that I possibly enjoyed it, but either way, I was happy to not be pelted with wooden blocks anymore or teased about my milk intake (ironically, I’m now lactose intolerant). Also amusing to note is that mere days later, a few of the little heathens were caught eating dirt of their own accord after witnessing my moment in the sun. When I look back on it now, I like to think that the person I am today would have told those little bastards to shove it, but I am glad I handled it in the manner I did, as it was one hell of a defining moment knowing that I had somehow tricked those little jackasses into eating dirt without any force or malice on my part. Sweet vengeance on the playground! Oh, and for the record, the dirt got 3 out of 5 stars, for I was certain there must be even better dirt around the corner, and man was I right.