When Jen and I were younger, my parents took us to visit with one of their friends who had a son who was a few years older than us, probably about 13 years old.
His name was Eugene.
Eugene’s parents would parade him around the living room and have him perform random things — magic tricks, saxophone concerts, spelling skills… Basically anything that they thought would impress us and make my parents beg them for tips on raising a child prodigy, like their child genius.
Well, actually, thinking back on it, my four-year-old brain was actually impressed with his “pour out a glass of water and not spill any” magic trick and I was super impressed that he had his own button maker.
His mom had him take us to his playroom so we could play with his button maker and I remember specifically that she told him to let us play with it and for him to help us make some. Well, I clearly remember that he didn’t let us use the button maker and I went home empty handed.
And that was the day I stopped having a crush on Eugene…
Well, fast forward almost 25 years and guess what EU-GENE?! I got my own button maker and you can’t play with it.