As a 7th grader I spent many evenings sitting inside a large refrigerator cardboard box. By choice. The box had one side section removed through which television reruns of Who's the Boss? and Growing Pains could be viewed. Inside I sat on a considerable pile of stuffed animals, most purchased, some donated. Often I would don goggles and keep my fingers crossed until it was uncomfortable. At regular intervals, even during viewing hours, two Teamsters would enter the house, lift the lid above me and pour in more stuffed animals, often Korean in origin. This went on for months until both my parents and the school agreed I would repeat the 7th grade and never discuss this matter publicly. Today, that embargo ends.

As a 7th grader I spent many evenings sitting inside a large refrigerator cardboard box. By choice. The box had one side section removed through which television reruns of Who’s the Boss? and Growing Pains could be viewed.

Inside I sat on a considerable pile of stuffed animals, most purchased, some donated. Often I would don goggles and keep my fingers crossed until it was uncomfortable. At regular intervals, even during viewing hours, two Teamsters would enter the house, lift the lid above me and pour in more stuffed animals, often Korean in origin.

This went on for months until both my parents and the school agreed I would repeat the 7th grade and never discuss this matter publicly.

Today, that embargo ends.

Chris Weagel

Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.

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