The Stupid Freakin Piece of Plastic
Annoys the heck out of me.
Friday, against my better judgment, I allowed the Nintendo DS's in the car. This was because we traveled from our house in Lakeland to Gameboy's doctor in Tampa, to the campsite in southern Hillsborough County. We'd be in the car for an hour and a half, and I figured it'd be good to occupy the boys while they were overly cramped in that back seat. There is one hard and fast rule of scout camping: no electronic devices.
What happened was that Gameboy bugged me ALL.WEEKEND.LONG about that freaking piece of plastic. Can I go to the car? Can I have my game? When are we leaving? Can we go now? In the midst of breaking camp Sunday morning, he bugged me so bad that I gave him a stern lecture that he WOULD NOT be seeing that DS for a loooong time. He was banished to a picnic table and told not to leave it until I was ready to leave.
One of the leaders intervened and said that maybe Mom would allow him to have it back if he helped pack the car, unpacked the car at home and did some chores around the house. Gameboy came up to me and apologized and offered to help. One trip to the car later, he thought he'd get the freakin piece of plastic back. I had to explain that he would not see it until he'd paid his chores in full. (then we had the flat tire and I had to alter the plan).
Tonight, we had two Boy Scout meetings: one for Chef's camping trip this weekend with the older boys (but no Gameboy, which I'm sure he's thrilled about), then Gameboy's meeting. The deal was that each boy could have their DS during their sibling's meeting.
Gameboy got his turn first, then his meeting began at 7:30. He lasted 45 minutes before he started bugging me for the stupid freakin piece of plastic. His patrol went outside to play a game-he came to me and said they were done. Nope, no can do, Scoutmaster has not dismissed the troop-go find them.
He came back a half dozen more times, saying that they told him it was okay to come back inside. The Scoutmaster observed as I kept telling the obstinate child that he wasn't abiding by the scout law and that I don't drive 45 minutes each way and waste a pile of money on gas for him to sit there and play the stupid freakin piece of plastic.
Once back inside, it got worse. He kept coming back over to me, instead of staying with the patrol. I told him I do not appreciate him wasting my time and money to come to scouts when he's not going to respect his patrol. I asked him if he wanted to be a scout, or if he was more interested in the stupid freakin piece of plastic.
On the way home, he got a long lecture about his insincere "I'm sorry", the words he says because he knows he's supposed to, but doesn't comprehend the meaning. I explained that the stupid freakin piece of plastic wasn't going to put a roof over his head, keep him warm, feed and clothe him or care about his needs, that only the people around him can provide these things.
He told me his heart is breaking. When pressed further, he said it was because he wasn't allowed to play his DS. Not because I'm upset with him, that he's disappointed his patrol and leaders tonight.
Because he couldn't play with his stupid freakin piece of plastic.
Nintendo, I hate you.
Asperger's, OCD and whatever else is driving his damn obsessions, I hate you more.
Friday, against my better judgment, I allowed the Nintendo DS's in the car. This was because we traveled from our house in Lakeland to Gameboy's doctor in Tampa, to the campsite in southern Hillsborough County. We'd be in the car for an hour and a half, and I figured it'd be good to occupy the boys while they were overly cramped in that back seat. There is one hard and fast rule of scout camping: no electronic devices.
What happened was that Gameboy bugged me ALL.WEEKEND.LONG about that freaking piece of plastic. Can I go to the car? Can I have my game? When are we leaving? Can we go now? In the midst of breaking camp Sunday morning, he bugged me so bad that I gave him a stern lecture that he WOULD NOT be seeing that DS for a loooong time. He was banished to a picnic table and told not to leave it until I was ready to leave.
One of the leaders intervened and said that maybe Mom would allow him to have it back if he helped pack the car, unpacked the car at home and did some chores around the house. Gameboy came up to me and apologized and offered to help. One trip to the car later, he thought he'd get the freakin piece of plastic back. I had to explain that he would not see it until he'd paid his chores in full. (then we had the flat tire and I had to alter the plan).
Tonight, we had two Boy Scout meetings: one for Chef's camping trip this weekend with the older boys (but no Gameboy, which I'm sure he's thrilled about), then Gameboy's meeting. The deal was that each boy could have their DS during their sibling's meeting.
Gameboy got his turn first, then his meeting began at 7:30. He lasted 45 minutes before he started bugging me for the stupid freakin piece of plastic. His patrol went outside to play a game-he came to me and said they were done. Nope, no can do, Scoutmaster has not dismissed the troop-go find them.
He came back a half dozen more times, saying that they told him it was okay to come back inside. The Scoutmaster observed as I kept telling the obstinate child that he wasn't abiding by the scout law and that I don't drive 45 minutes each way and waste a pile of money on gas for him to sit there and play the stupid freakin piece of plastic.
Once back inside, it got worse. He kept coming back over to me, instead of staying with the patrol. I told him I do not appreciate him wasting my time and money to come to scouts when he's not going to respect his patrol. I asked him if he wanted to be a scout, or if he was more interested in the stupid freakin piece of plastic.
On the way home, he got a long lecture about his insincere "I'm sorry", the words he says because he knows he's supposed to, but doesn't comprehend the meaning. I explained that the stupid freakin piece of plastic wasn't going to put a roof over his head, keep him warm, feed and clothe him or care about his needs, that only the people around him can provide these things.
He told me his heart is breaking. When pressed further, he said it was because he wasn't allowed to play his DS. Not because I'm upset with him, that he's disappointed his patrol and leaders tonight.
Because he couldn't play with his stupid freakin piece of plastic.
Nintendo, I hate you.
Asperger's, OCD and whatever else is driving his damn obsessions, I hate you more.
Comments
I agree, though. Sometimes I HIDE the damned thing. 'Go OUTSIDE and play!'
But Mooooo-ooom'
Jess, no way! Ed plays that and I hate the darn game and especially hate that he plays it when the kids are awake to observe. It is NOT kid appropriate!
SB, Thankfully, I've got a computer guru here-he'll build computers for them. I suspect the cell phone will be on max plans. I don't text now and the rare text I do get usually winds up garbled (I've got five I can't read). Guess the phones and cell plan are going to do me in!