I was often bullied by these kids' who probably thought it was all just fun for them. There were many times when I would be invited to play with the Matchbox and then I would be told to give it right back, or someone would step in with their stick cart and kick up dirt on me as I drove the tiny car over the stairs or on the concrete pavement or on make-belief roads and towns along the dirt groves.
There were times when I was loaned a Matchbox and then the kid would in a few minutes ask me how come I am playing with his toy and then proceed into beating me up, resulting in all kind of arguments between the parents, which delighted these kids and of course I was grounded for a week, because I was the guilty party and should not have accepted the offer in the first place. I should have been shrewd enough at the age of seven to realize that the neighbors' kids and my play friends were simply oafish and selfish and displayed a streak of their adult counterparts and their own parents - a lesson which eventually did sink in.
And then on Christmas Eve, my dad asked all of us to go to the bedroom early. We all slept in the same bedroom,
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