Getting Rid of What Ails You

Homework went badly last night.

Mommy was in charge and I didn't quite get all the specifics, but it was done poorly enough that Mommy forbade the playing of video games for the rest of the evening. The Boy came downstairs where I was and sat with me watching as I played a bit of poker on-line. He wasn't in a good mood when he got there, but perked up a little as he played along with me. He had asked me the night before to play PlayStation and I'd said no. He had asked the day before as well, but that was SuperBowl Sunday. There had been a lot playing Crash NitroCart in recent days (each of us successfully completing an adventure, firsts for us if you must know).  I figured that a break was okay.

So when he came downstairs in ill spirits, I said I'd play until I won my chips back that I'd lost. Ask any gambler what a fool's game that is, but I won it back (and more) pretty quickly, so true to my word, I turned off the computer to turn on PlayStation. At this point the Boy told me that I would play and he would watch. Well, why just me playing, I wondered? Of course, that's when he told me the homework story and that Mommy told him no PlayStation.

I sensed a loophole.

Better check with legal.

I went upstairs and the Boy followed behind at a distance. Mommy never issued a judgement except to say it was bath time and the both of us should go upstairs. Upon further review, I guess it was a judgement. Immediately, the Boy's mood turned again and he got sad, angry and frustrated.

Boy: I knew I shouldn't have come upstairs.

I took him (up-side-down) upstairs for a bath. Despite my efforts to cheer him up, the Boy clung to his dark mood like grim death, supressing smiles, grinning for a moment only to lash out, angry that I'd made him smile. Stuff like that. As he got out of the tub and was getting dried off, he summed up his frustration.

Boy: Every time I want to play Crash NitroCart, someone says it's time to do something else so now I want to sell it.

Over his head, Mommy's eyes met mine and we shared his little moment with a small, sad smile.