The Oven Mitt


When I was around 12 or 13 years old, my friend sent me an oven mitt chain letter. I was pretty excited to get a letter, and pretty pissed that it was her asking for an oven mitt. She was only 14 or 15, so not sure why she needed to stock up on them. Somehow, I decided to indulge her.

I went to the store and stressed about getting a cute oven mitt. I’m not even sure how I had money to buy one, or to buy a package to mail it in, or pay to mail it. My parents must have been indulging this as well. Mmmmm, why?

I don’t think I continued the chain letter. I think I knew that was an obnoxious thing to do, unless I just picked two people I hated. I never got any oven mitts back if I did. Hi, I’m 12. Send me an oven mitt. I’m pretty sure if I had still lived in the same neighborhood as my friend, she would have talked me into mailing more out. That sounds like the kind of thing we would have gotten in trouble for. Probably would have starting writing letters to an entire phone book, or maybe her parents’ contacts in an address book. Whatever was more humiliating, until someone complained. Some kids shouldn’t be friends.


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