edith zimmerman

The Daribi of New Guinea, for example, have children make a small box and bury it in the ground, telling them that after a while a treasure will appear inside but they must not peek…Invariably the youngsters succumb to curiosity — only to find a sample of human feces.

Dear journal,
Today Mrs Walsh said come out into the playground so we went outside She said put your workbooks in your desk then we went outside.

Mrs Walsh was near the swings and she said come over to the swings Some people got on the swings but Mrs Walsh said Nope . She had boxes  Everyone take a box now.

I had a blue one Mrs. Walsh said do not open them . They have a special prize in them and you can not open them until the treasure happens I said what is the treasure and she said I can not tell you She said put them in the sand and wait for the treasure

I put mine in the sand and do you know what there was poop inside !! !

Later JEsses mom brought puppy surprise on her bike we opened it there were four puppys

So I think the world is trying to tell me something, but I can’t quite, yet, figure out what it is.

My popularity among children increases. Today, while I was walking home from work, an 8-year-old boy broke away from his friends and ran at me. I figured he was just energetic and would pass me by, but he didn’t and then he was hugging me, and then, staring into my eyes with manic glee, he began to slowly and meaningfully hump my leg (because he was short because he was a child and that’s where he lined up). I grabbed his shoulders and said, “Whoa, WHOA,” and tried to pry him off, but he clung. “You CANNOT do that,” I said, and I pushed him off. As I passed his friends I gave them a complicated look that said, “What the fuck/you all are crazy/haha that was awful,” but it may have been lost on them. The oldest kids were like 12 or 13 and they all leaned on their bikes and smiled like douchebags.

I didn’t actually say anything to them, however, because I remember how when I was a child I always grabbed women on the sidewalk and rubbed myself on them as hard as I could while groaning, it was just what we did. It was mostly a rite of passage. Maybe I’ll do it again tomorrow, just for old times’ sake.

Do you guys get it? Why I used that picture?

It’s because the child was singing ‘50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.’

On the way to the subway, I passed two boys about eight years old. They were alternately leaning against a mailbox and hitting each other. Both wore giant baseball caps that came way down over their foreheads. As I walked by, one kid squealed, “YO MAMI MAMI MAMI, kai getcho NUMBA!!??” with some panic. I turned around. They were both looking at me and rocking in place, but one of them was clearly more strung out and excited/terrified.

“Yes! Definitely!” I said to him, and I rummaged in my purse for my wallet. “OK, here’s my business card, but I’m going to write my cell on the back, is that cool?”

The boys kept looking at each other and then at me and then at each other. “YEAH, YEAH, WHATEVER!” one of them screamed.

So I wrote my number on the card and then passed it to him. “Give me a call, maybe we can go out for a drink,” I said.

The boy took the card, and then the other boy punched him in the stomach.