Showing posts with label videogames. Show all posts
Showing posts with label videogames. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Dad, can I play Playstation?!

So Caleb is officially a videogame addict. Every day when I get home from work, as soon as I walk through the door, he asks if he can play the Playstation, while he jumps up and down, then clings to my leg. Usually he is accompanied by Jacob, who proceeds to mimic his older brother, yelling, "Playstation! Playstation!"

I'm afraid I've created a monster.

Then again, I remember at the last church conference I attended, there was a talk about fathers needing to spend quality time with their sons. I suppose slaying demons with flaming sticks counts, right? (the videogame I'm referencing is Ico, for those not in the know ... pick it up at ebay.)

Of course, I usually get curious looks from Mim as I let Caleb play an M-rated game. It's only happened once, for all you concerned mothers and grandmothers out there, and I DID turn off the blood and gore option and the foul language option (yeah, it's considered an OPTION in this game to see blood splatter everywhere when slaying beasts with a battle axe). And I sat there with him. And it is a FUNNY game, after all, so that makes it okay for kids, right? The kid crack up while while the main character in the game, played by Jack Black, talks nonstop about how the characters in the game should start a mosh-pit. (Brutal Legend, also recommended).

But now Caleb wants to play games all the time. It's driving me crazy, despite the hours of quality male-bonding time together. I decided to make the PS2 "his" and he can play the games I approve. He's amazingly good at them for a four year old. We don't play much, but when we play, I'm constantly amazed at how well he has figured out the controls. There are 10 buttons and 2 joysticks after all.

It always comes to a point in the game, usually within the first 15 minutes when he screams for help. he throws me the controller. "I can't handle it Dad," he says. "It's too hard, " or "It's too scary." I always throw the controller back at him and tell him he can do it. We usually argue a bit. I walk away and listen for more shouts of frustration coming from near the game system. He doesn't know I'm listening. He usually gets frustrated a few more times, then miraculously gets past the monster he's trying to fight, or he figures out a puzzle in the level. And then I hear shouts of pure glee. "I did it Dad! I did it!" I come back downstairs and tell him, "See, I told you that you could."

I know it's just a silly videogame system, and parenting magazines, politicians, and even some church leaders say you shouldn't play them with your kids, or even play them at all. But for a moment, I feel proud of my son. He's discovered something that gave me years of fun in my own life (I still remember fondly hours spent playing videogames with friends in ill-lit basements with bags of Doritos and bottles of Mountain Dew) and it's something we can share together. What's more important though is that he's learned not to give up so easily when something tough comes his way. I've never really thought that videogames could teach too many lessons in life, but I see it with him. I see how proud he is of himself, how thrilled and ecstatic he is when he beats a level in a game that he thought was impossible to him. And usually he can do it with none of my help. He's learned that he's smart enough and good enough to do tough things on his own.

Now, I just can't wait until he's old enough for model rockets.