On Safari Diaper Cake

One time my neighbor Dylan beat me up. This wasn't unusual. What was unusual, in this instance, was the way that he did it. He knocked me out with my own aluminum baseball bat. When I came to (with a swelling head might I add), I ran to my father crying. He was hanging around the back porch, cooking on the grill. I was crying and smacking my hands on the screen yelling "Daddy!". He opened the door and I spilled my guts.

"Da-da-da-daaadyyy (sob sob sniffle)- Dylan hit me in the head with my baseball bat!"

He sat down and said, "Justin, come sit over here."

I did.

"I'm going to tell you something, and I'm only going to say this once. You let Dylan do this to you all the time; I'm tired of it. The next time he bullies you, you better do something about it- and I don't mean come running to me. In fact, if you come running to me about Dylan, expect me to spank you for it."

The next time something happened I didn't know what to do, so I ran to mom. She told me a little secret, a very 'pissy' story if you will, about why no one spends the night at Dylan's house. I let him know I knew, and I had no problems with Dylan after that.