Jack in the Box

Another early memory I have is either six months before or after the previous story. I remember a Christmas Tree, and I remember being in the living room at my aunt Catherine’s house. My frame of reference is for time is that they stopped putting the tree in the living room by the time I was 3. So I was 1 or 2 at the time.

My uncles were trying to get me to play with a Jack-in-the-box, but I wanted no part of it. I wanted to play with some other toy. I would start to crawl away, but they kept grabbing me, sitting me down in front of the box, cranking the handle very sloooowly so the music would drunkenly warble out until Jack finally made his grand entrance. I remember going through the routine at least three times, getting more and more annoyed each time until finally someone started crying. I partially glad that someone else was sick of this crap too. It took me a bit to realize that I was actually the one who was crying.

I found the jack in the box a few years later down in my aunt’s basement. I smashed it all up and scattered the remains in the neighbor’s yards.