As I mentioned before, Giuseppe was an important member of our lunch table committee. He didn't have a chair of his own (we weren't that childish, even if we were nothing less than wild, but that's mostly because we were only allowed to have six chairs at a table, and it would probably be regarded as exclusive if we placed an inanimate object in someone's potential spot; the school was all about inclusivity that year), but he was viewed as the star of the table.
After the table had been cleared from everyone's meals, we would throw Giuseppe around among us. Through laughter and the occasional shriek when the doll was passed unexpectedly to someone, we were much louder than what was regularly condoned, and teachers told us we could continue playing only if we were quiet. Other people began to stare, too.
Some people at the table found it obnoxious, however.
YOU ARE READING
The Truth About Giuseppe
Non-Fictionright so there was this doll my friends and I worshiped in sixth grade who ended up ruining our lives so here's the story
