When I was in my early teens, my family had a limit on the amount of television that we could watch. In theory, the household rule was supposed to push us away from a sedentary television-watching lifestyle and encourage physical and more social activity. In practice, it resulted in us wanting to watch television more than anything else in the world.
Occasionally, my parents would have to leave the house, and when they did, on came the television. We would watch, and watch, and watch some more, all for the equally thrilling purposes of not only entertainment, but also the little measure of risky rebellion that came from breaking this silly rule. It was forbidden and therefore, suddenly desirous.
In order to soak up as much TV as we possibly could, we would wait until the sound of the front door opening before turning it off. However, this would inevitably lead to suspicions over why we had all congregated in the living room to not watch television. And so, we had a cover up. We would take out board games from the cupboard and place them all around as though there were in the middle of being played, and then, as soon as we heard that door, we would pretend to be in the middle of playing Scattergories.
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