Camping Equipment Department of Fear.

During these in-between months, it’s easier than usual to scare yourself. To inadvertently frighten, startle or otherwise upend your own emotional well-being is another of God’s Correctives the lesser mammals never enjoy.

Long hair in your peripheral vision or even your own shadow is enough to quicken your pace. Convincing yourself you’ve forgotten a child’s birthday, even while watching him blow out the candles, can make you eager to give them all up (wife included) to the state and hide yourself deeper in the bayou. Misinterpreted woodgrain patterns can leave you fruitlessly stabbing furniture during dinner parties with trusted clergy.

John, we can’t live this way.

The only – and obvious – solution to this weakness is: (of course) The Application of Hot Towels. Apply and Re-Apply. Around and atop the infected areas. Wouldn’t hurt to sit on one either. Bring a doctor’s note and the boss will look the other way.

Yes, you will still have these thoughts. Your imagination will still torrment you with visions of Grade Inflation and Poor Grooming Habits. But the towels will give you comfort. They will say: It’s OK. You don’t have to be afraid. I will open your pores. I will be the one.

I love you so very much.

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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