"WHAT'S YOUR DEAL?"

So my 10-year-old self e-mailed me: "What's your deal? How come you don't go out in the woods and dig foxholes no more?"

Not sure how—or, in truth, why—to respond, I eventually replied: "Good to hear from you. Thanks for the 46-year lapse in communications. In answer to your query, it is illegal to 'go out in the woods and dig foxholes,' even though some people ignore this. Their photographs can be found in your local Post Office."

The speedy reply: "Huh? Well how come you don't go out at night no more and climb on people's roofs and junk?"

Struck a nerve, there: "Who says I don't?"

Could have been more subtle with that, but what the hey, right? Two weeks later I heard back: "OH HA-HA-HA-HA-HA stupid head!"

No wonder this kid grew up to be me.

In honor of me—him I mean him—I've assembled 10-Year-Old Me's Greatest Hits. Basically, a crazy-quilt of quips, one-liners, and neo-existentialist philosophy shared with friends and mean Mr. Silvewski who probably had a pile of kids in his basement next to the train set.

1. We should climb this tree and spit on Brian Britz.
2. We should climb up on your garage roof and pee on Brian Britz.
3. We should climb up on the Ridd's barn and chuck apples at Brian Britz.
4. AHHH! RUN! Britz and his fat-ass brother are after us!
5. When you drop a brick on a toad it really stops moving.
6. Let's empty all the firecrackers and build a rocket engine.
7. I tried breathing under water and it hurt. Aquaman's fake!
8. If we build a tree-house, we'll be able to see Canada and stuff.
9. Flush your sister's shoe down the toilet and watch her face turn colors.
10. Pro'ly I shouldn't have let Mr. Silvewski's dog eat all that chili.
11. We should build a tree-house, carry Silvewski's dog up there, feed him more chili, and aim his pooper at Brian Britz.
12. We should blow up Silvewski and blame it on Brian Britz.
13. Yesterday I burped and junk came up and tasted like the time I ate a leaky battery.
14. I bet those guys on the Moon can see Canada.
15. I'm gonna hook up my dad's generator to my bike, drink a bottle of Coke with peanuts in it, and see if I go into the future.

You know, given a viable budget and more prudent management oversight, #15 might have gotten off the ground instead of ending in catastrophic failure and projectile vomiting.

Oh well, it was good to hear from me. As for the rest of you, in the well-intentioned but ill-applied English of Mr. Silvewski: "Ya damn kidz get outta my yaaard!"