After I got home late last night, I planted some Stress Trees all around the house. Saplings, really, just encircling the house. I did this to fully exhaust myself before bed. Tearing up pieces of the carpeting no longer works. I awoke to quite a sight. Nothing unexpected, but still amazing nonetheless. There in the branches of the now fully grown Stress Trees were entire armies of unruly kindergarten classes and really loud florescent lighting units and three traffic jams and thousands of cable box remotes and a goddamn swing set that needs assembling. I went right over to the one dripping in Casio keyboards stuck in demo mode and just hugged it.

After I got home late last night, I planted some Stress Trees all around the house. Saplings, really, just encircling the house. I did this to fully exhaust myself before bed. Tearing up pieces of the carpeting no longer works.

I awoke to quite a sight. Nothing unexpected, but still amazing nonetheless.

There in the branches of the now fully grown Stress Trees were entire armies of unruly kindergarten classes and really loud florescent lighting units and three traffic jams and thousands of cable box remotes and a goddamn swing set that needs assembling.

I went right over to the one dripping in Casio keyboards stuck in demo mode and just hugged it.

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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