Quality Time

So just before the ice storm hit, Jr went down to the video game store and bought him a Ninja sword game for the Wii. It must be great fun, because he has been in front of the big ass 40 inch plasma screen playing it non-stop pretty much since he got home. He was even complaining of how tired his arms felt from standing and moving and sword fighting all day, then all night now all day and all night again. Poor kid.

He gets those games, then looks up "cheat codes" on the internet until he can play his way through every level. Then he loses interest in the game and sells it back at half what he paid. But see, it occurs to me, he doesn't have a freakin job so he is really buying all these games with MY money and that means THIS is a call for TIGHT-ASS DAD!!

Faster than a speeding coupon clip out, I dash into the den and assess the situation. I find I can simply turn off the Wii and tell him to do something more constructive. But logic tells me if I start making him help around the house, MRS. CRIS will feel I should work too! This is unacceptable!

I could limit his ability to log on the computer, which would limit his access to cheat codes, but that would mean I would have to pay attention to him and what he does all day. This is unacceptable!

I finally decide the best approach is to add a new layer of difficulty to his video game. Grabbing a throw pillow off the sofa, I smack him in the mouth, knocking his glasses all wonky on his face and taking him totally by surprise.

"Hey!! What did you do that for?!" he demands with a bit of anger in his voice.

"Oh... you know... just trying to add to the excitement of the game. New level of difficulty, get it?" I reply.

"No I don't get it!" He bellows at me

"SMACK!!" the pillow catches him if full huff.

"See? I think it helps. It's like a rumble pack... only with pillows." I tell him with a grin. "Go ahead, keep playing and see if you can win now."

"Quit it." he growls from between clinched teeth. "Quit it, I'm not kidding." I might or might not have been patting him on the nose with a fluffy pillow as he was expressing his wishes. "THAT'S IT!! I'm telling! Mawwwwwww-OHMMMMMM!"

The the overly indulgent parent enters the room and does her best to keep me from making a man out of the boy. But this hasn't ended. Those games are expensive and the frugal thing to do here is slow down his learning/cheating curve. SO I bide my time, content in knowing something he doesn't know.

Mom falls asleep early. Real early.