I enjoyed video games growing up, but my parents merely tolerated them. I would get a new one rarely, and my opportunities to play were limited. First by parental mandate, then just by the increasing demands of my busy life.
Then I had kids, and oh boy do I like to live vicariously.
At first it was fine, we would play together (the early Lego games were notoriously kid friendly), but over time their tastes started to diverge from mine. And while I lack the same appreciation for the games they enjoy, I at least understand them.
Until they went feral.
When everything shut down four years ago, they had nothing to do and nowhere to go. It was all closed, so I simply unleashed what indoor entertainment I had and they let loose. Pulling back from that has been a gradual challenge, and a moderately unsuccessful one at that. As their own lives have grown busier what with clubs and other outside activities creeping into their lives, the dominance of screens has waned over the years, but we noticed it in their behavior.
They turned into monsters.
When they don't have an endless supply of the games, they turn into regular people. With them? They become unhinged devils. So I did what any maniac father would do and packed them all up.
It helps that all the games and consoles are mine, and I just let them use it. (You gave your kids a Switch? That was your mistake. I got myself one and reminded them that I merely let them use it)
That was a few weeks ago, and they're acting like normal people again, despite the daily whining from my oldest, blaming the behavior of his youngest brother, but that's almost expected.
We'll see how it goes.
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