The Boy Who Ate the Internet.

The Boy Who Ate the Internet.

You could see he was sorry. Genuine remorse on a ten-year-old is not hard to see. The boy had been, in fact, hiding under his own bed, genuinely remorseful and ashamed under there, when the CEO turned up on the doorstep asking his mother (the boy's, not the CEO's) just what in the sam heck had happened to all his e-commerce. And the mother called up the stairs and when the boy didn't come down, she went up, found him there, under the bed with his snow boots, hiding. She saw his genuine remorse and shame plain as day, and with 100% pure motherly concern and tenderness asked the boy to please come downstairs and tell the nice CEO what happened to the Internet. She told him no matter what, they would take care of it together.

Wiping his runny nose with the back of his hand and looking down at his shoes, the boy who ate the Internet (who was not an overweight boy by any means, or even prone to snacking) told the CEO that he had seen the Internet cooling on a windowsill and it just smelled so good and looked so fresh and it was past his lunchtime and all these things were just too many things for the boy to resist. The boy explained further he only intended to eat a little of the Internet, just a nibble from the edge, but it had been so rich and warm that before he knew it he was standing under the windowsill holding an empty plate, and became so overwhelmed with genuine remorse he dropped the plate in the bushes and ran straight home to hide under the bed.

The CEO had kids of his own, and with fatherly understanding told the boy it was OK, that he forgave the boy, but the fact the remained that the CEO's big company was sitting there crippled, with no e-commerce or social networking or even simple email. Was there anything, the CEO asked, the boy could think of to get them both out of this little pickle?

The boy, little brow furrowed, thinking hard, considered this. After a moment, the boy told the CEO that he would come to the CEO's company every day after school and fill orders and relay messages until his debt had been fairly repaid. And the CEO bent down and extended a big hand to the boy, and said that it was a deal.

The mother, so proud of her son she was radiant, clapped her hands and led them all to the kitchen, along the way joking the Internet was like Chinese food, you could eat all you want and still be hungry, and fixed her son and the CEO grilled cheese sandwiches. Around a gooey bite, the CEO told the mother of the boy who ate the Internet that such a good and forthright boy could only have come from the world's finest mother, and the compliment warmed her like sunshine. They looked at each other then, shyly smiling.

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