Wii-ning the kids off the computer
The boys are lobbying their mother and me for a Wii, or at least some new games for the PC. My oldest also added an iPod Nano to his list for Santa.
But along with the approach of Christmas, and with it the Winter Solstice, I've noticed something. The boys aren't hounding me at work each day for permission to play on my computer after they've finished their homework. They want to go outside Ñ and play.
It's typically dusk this time of year when I turn onto our street at the end of the workday. Commonplace lately is a small dot of light at the end of the street bouncing all over like a firefly in summer.
But rather than an insect, the light is from a flashlight in the hand of one of my sons as he darts from hedge row to parked cars and across the street to the big oak tree and then another hedge row.
He's looking for neighbor kids who dash between hiding place when my son isn't looking. I can see their silhouettes as they bolt from here to there, trying not to be spotlighted.
The game is flashlight tag, a modern adaptation of the old concept. Instead of a simple touch, or tag, that makes you "it," you go to jail if the person holding the flashlight shines the light on you. It doesn't matter what age the players are, and girls like playing just as much as boys.
Another low-tech diversion for our boys, and a male bastion of play, is armymen. This goes back as long as there have been armymen. The game is simple: You spend hours setting up fortresses behind which your men stand. Each side bombards the other side, trying to knock over the other's men. Projectiles can be anything, including the short Lincoln Logs timbers, marbles or any odd small part. The rule is that the last man standing wins.
There are a few unspoken loopholes about reinforcements and that if you don't fully knock over a man he is only injured. But those are rare. My boys "wing" their missiles so hard they send armymen tumbling, as well as bouncing off the floor and hitting the wall--as evidenced by the many nicks and scratches on the paint.
Epic battles have been slugged out between the boys, taking days to resolve (and a week to clean up).
And while girls aren't normally allowed, Mom sometimes participates, although the boys don't consider their mother a female. "She's not a girl, she's Mom!"
Nevertheless, she is a crack shot. She also happens to be the one who consoles the loser with just-out-of-the-oven cookies or treats. The woman has skills.
This game, however, also confounds our efforts to eliminate what we would have thought were obsolete playthings, such as old Fisher-Price animal barns or Little People garages. "Dad! Those make great defenses for our battles."
Ah. And that old Hot Wheels track can be piled up for breastworks to guard the "kneeling" sharpshooters. Got it.
So, with all the fun they are having playing outside with buddies and incorporating every toy in the house into their legendary army battles, why do they need a Wii? Their reaction to that question was--well, you can imagine the expressions on their faces and the tones in their voices when they rolled their eyes and said, "Daaa-aad."
Silly me. What was I thinking?
Copyright 2007 by David Falloure
