HOT DOGS OR PIZZA?
What if I thought I was better than you, and you thought you were better? And our parents got really tired of hearing us argue about it?
What if they all got together and told us, "Okay, guys. Today you're going to trade skin, and hair, and eyebrows, and everything!"
So you borrowed my curly black hair and golden brown skin. And I borrowed your red hair and freckles. Then you were me and I was you—for the whole week.
Would we still fight about who was better? Or would we laugh and giggle when we looked in the mirror 'cause we couldn't tell who was who? So we
forgot to fight—and walked home from school together instead—so you could show me your pet frog, and I could show you my three turtles. And we could both show our parents how we'd changed.
What if our families laughed and laughed together, and your mom said, "Dylan, come home. We're having hot dogs for dinner."
And my mom said, "Xavier, come home. We're having your favorite pizza."
And we both answered, "Yes." 'cause we couldn't tell who our moms were talking to—and 'cause we both like hot dogs and pizza.
What if you were me and I were you, and we didn't worry about who was better? 'Cause we both liked both of us.