Let me out! Let me out!

I just ran across this old picture on my computer. It's my oldest son Marshall sitting in front of one of his all-time favorite toys: the toy box. He and his little brother were in his room one day playing when I noticed that the noise level appeared to be quite a bit louder and more desperate than normal. I trotted down the hallway to see if they were really going to kill each other this time to find one of them sitting on top of it while the other was locked inside. Figuring that the little one was being held hostage and was most likely terrified of being trapped, I yelled at Marshall to let him out. Just then the wife walks by and says they do that all the time. Evidently, the way she explained how the game was played was for one to climb inside, the other then closed the lid and sat on it. They would both sit there and holler for about 10 minutes then switch places and start over. By now all 3 of them were looking at me as if they couldn't believe I hadn't ever heard of this game before. Sensing their impatience to get back to their claustrophobic fun, I just shook my head and wandered out to my workshop to the sound of blood chilling screams that would have even raised the hair on the back of Boris Karloff's neck.