third grade flyting

I can only remember one malicious fight in my school career and that happened in third grade. It was a special day because I had learned a new word earlier that morning, "jackass." My friend, Mary, told me it was a good word because technically, it wasn't a swear. (My mom was really good about not telling me swearwords, and when my bestfriend learned this, she decided to slowly enlighten me. I already knew "ass" and "bitch" by this time). Even though the word had "ass" in it, the word meant "donkey"-- Mary told me. I didn't make the connection that "ass" was a donkey at the time which was stupid of me, but anyway, I learned a new word which came in handy at lunchtime, when this newer girl from the other third grade class sat with my friends at our table. The only spot left in our table was near her. I sat down, but there wasn't a lot of room and I noticed she had some space on the other side of her. I bumped her to signal,"you should scoot down." And she said, "Excuse you, don't hit me, stupid." in this mean prissy way that pissed me off, so I made some remark asking her if her butt really needed all that space, and then she told me something to the effect that if I weren't so huge, I would fit on the bench just fine, and then I think I called her a stupid head jerkface with a butt bigger than the universe and then (and this was kind of cool, in a mean way), she let off on this long rant about how I was ugly, how my mom was ugly, how we were both ugos, fat and stupid and the only thing in the world that could beat us in smarts was the table. I think at that point I was kind of impressed and hurt and I couldn't say anything. I was new to "your momma" jokes and I thought that a low blow. I sat there thinking for a while, and ate my lunch and then, as I walked past her to throw my trash away, I leaned down to her smug face and called her a jackass. And then she sat stunned for awhile, and I thought to myself, "bah ha" until I found out later that I made her cry and then she and I both got detention and had to write insincere letters of apologies to each other. Afterwards, Mary told me that jackass was just like a swear when you called someone it.
My dad later told me that he'd rather save swearwords for a good occassion; when all of the other words fail him, he'd still be able to have something to say. I'm kind of sorry I made an eight year old cry, but now, I figure my dad's advice fits in with the situation. She had a good tongue for mean things; she stunned me, and all I could muster was the word I had just learned. I don't know what I would've said if that hadn't have happened. I just don't know.