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on saturday morning little john went to play in the sandbox as 
usual. sun was shining and he marched cheerfully on the yard 
carrying a brand new plastic truck that daddy had given him as 
a birthday present yesterday.

children from the neighbourhood were already building
castles out of dirt and stones and digging the ground with 
their tiny shovels in the box. but when little john arrived with
his new toy everybody turned to look at him. he laid the truck 
down ceremoniously and started to drive on the soft sand.

the other children continued their playing but little
peter wasn't happy. he was so envious about little john's
truck that it hurt. he dropped his shovel and walked next
to little john and looked at him with a challenging spark
in his eyes.

"know what?", little peter started.

"yes?", little john answered.

"i know a secret you don't", peter said recalling what his
big brother had told him last night, "and it's much more
better than your truck!"

little john was doubtful. what could be possibly better than his
new truck? but little peter seemed to be so sure and he started
to be curious: "what? i want to know!"

"it's a secret word that you can use so that your mother gives
you candy every time you want! but i can tell you only if you
let me try your truck!"

little john's head was whirling with images of unlimited candy
he could eat as often as he wanted. without further thinking he
gave the truck away. as a gift in return little peter whispered
him the secret words and little john left the box running.

back home he rushed straight to the bedroom where his parents
were still enjoying late saturday morning and shouted:
"mother, mother! fukwit daddy!"