How Lucky Charms Taught Me That There’s No Such Thing As Willpower

I don’t believe the experts who say willpower is finite. In fact, I don’t believe in willpower at all.

I’m 10-years old, just tall enough to stare at belts all day, round enough to be considered husky.

It’s recess, again, the worst part of my day. Some sixth graders are making me and a few other kids stand along a brick wall between two buildings that jut up like skyscrapers. It feels like The Swamp Of Sadness from the Never-ending Story.

There’s a teacher out there, somewhere near the metal slide, our savior that never comes, and never answers our prayers. So we stop praying and accept the game. It’s called hit the fat kid with the red rubber ball.

Unfortunately, I’m the biggest target. It wouldn’t matter anyway; there are far too many of us to dodge anything. So instead of crashing like bumper cars during rush hour, we grit our teeth and endure.

It seems like a lifetime ago. But I can still feel the welts plump and pulse like a pot pie in the oven. And I swear I still have the knot from having the back of my head snapped back into that brick. But nothing was worse than the sound of the kid getting hit next to you. It meant you were next.