Dipper sometimes wondered what it was like to be a normal kid.
Where the biggest thing you had to look forward to was the holidays, birthdays and school and the only monsters were the ones who lived under your bed when you were six.
No Gnomes, apocalypse or time travel.
The mundane could look pretty peaceful and he had almost wished for it during the whole Weirdmaggedon mess.
Where skinned knees and the occasional broken arms were the worst injuries you had to expect.
Where arguing with your sibling meant bruises, hurt feelings and awkward silences at most.
And demon possession was just a work of fiction.
People also didn't make fun of you for being normal. Bullies didn't push you around and call you names if you were an Average Joe.
Nobody suggested therapy to your parents when they thought you weren't around.
Normal kids didn't have to edit things when they talked about their summers.
Normal kids could tell their parents why they woke up screaming in the middle of the night.
Normal kids weren't suspicious of everyone named Bill.
All in all, normal seemed pretty great.
Until he found out they were bored.
Normal people were bored with their normal lives.
Out of all the crazy things Dipper had heard and done in his life, this one boggled his mind.
It was one mystery he just couldn't solve.
All their routines and predictable plans – all that peace! – they found it boring and restrictive.
They would even spend a fortune trying to spice it up.
Like real fortunes, hundreds or even thousands of dollars.
While all he needed was the price of bus fare.
He just can't wrap his mind around it.
In the end he just let it slide. (after two years of intense research, graphs and flowcharts, granted. But that was beside the point)
After all, no matter how intense and terrifying the craziness got, no matter how many scars it gave him, he wouldn't trade it for anything.