I’ll admit that when I first set foot on the anti-fatigue mat, I was already somewhat tired. The makers of the mat no doubt prefer a fully-rested customer mounting their product. I was not fully or even partially rested, and cannot recall a time when I have been. It was late at night and I had stacked firewood all day. My feet felt like socks filled with pennies. It seemed appropriate, then, to rejuvenate them with the anti-fatigue mat, to climb aboard the feltish rectangle and seek restoration upon it. A father deserves such a product. I had high hopes, and for the occasion I had put on my new action-wear pajama bottoms, with the left leg rolled up to just below my knee, showing off the six-digit university scar I earned during my academic fortnight in England. But like many people, I was worried about my children. Would they be suddenly killed? Would they have their faces destroyed? I had therefore kept the mat hidden in the closet since receiving it that morning from labsafety.com. If any of my children crawled over the mat, even by accident, and the time was near to their bedtime, then I would have a tweaking youngster on my hands, one who might go the whole night without sleep, grinding his gums like a crack addict. An anti-fatigue mat should not be used on very young children, particularly those who refer to themselves as Captain Larry.

To read the rest of this piece, please purchase this issue of the Believer online or at your local bookseller.

—Ben Marcus