My best friend and I sat on the front row of the dingy movie theater, trying to hold it together. We were only ten years old, our bottom lips quivered and our eyes filled with moisture.

We had just finished watching “Benji: The Hunted.” (A movie about a little dog if you aren’t familiar with 80’s kid’s movies.) As the lights in the theatre came up, I looked at my friend. Both of us frantically wiped the tears from our eyes. We knew we had a problem.