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The playground is a play. There are props, conventions, and roles. Children learn to “use their words” with scripted lines like “Sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me.” This in response to a hurtful accusation like “Liar, liar, pants on fire…” I was always more of an “I’m rubber and you’re glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you” kind of guy; but I was speechless in the face of the threatening playmate who liked to say, “See my finger, see my thumb, see my fist you better run.” (Later I learned about slant rhyme and wished I had said, “Well, aren’t you a little Emily Dickinson!”) L’esprit d’escalier…

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