Truthfully, car trips had become stressful. Ren would brings hers. John-Heath would want hers. Now, I’m a teacher and, as such, a fairly educated person. I knooooow there are better ways to handle situations like this but, frankly, it was just easier to say, “let him play with it for a while, Ren.” Well, actually, more times than not I was probably shouting something like FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY, REN, JUST GIVE IT TO HIM! Yeah, that sounds more like it.
Anyway, Santa came to our rescue and now my son has one of his very own. I can see right now he has the makings to be the “gamer” of the family. He always outscores me in Temple Run.
The bad thing about my six-year-old having his own is that on some days there are long chunks of time when the device becomes glued to his hand. When this happens all else in his life seemingly ceases to exist. Dinner? Who needs to eat. Mommy’s kisses? Too busy for that. SpongeBob? SpongeBob who?
The good thing about him having his own is that it can be a wonderful leveraging tool. Wanna play with your iPod… do your homework/clean your room/get in the shower/eat your dinner/watch SpongeBob for old time’s sake/or just give your mommy a kiss.
Yes, as Monk use to say, “It’s a gift…and a curse.”