Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me, right? At least it would have been a better alternative.
Today, I went with my little sister to a camp to see if she wanted to go there for the summer. Overall, the day went pretty well. That is… Until a little six-year-old started to poke my sister and I with hay on the hay ride, then hit us with sticks and threw rocks at us for the rest of the day. Then, on the car ride home, my sister was crying, but I made out the words “There was a little boy that I told to run because I was afraid that the evil girl would hit him, but she must have really good ears because she screamed that she only hits people from our family.”
That’s it, I thought. I’m not going to that camp.