Yesterday my daughter had the day off from school. My grand plans for a mommy-daughter crafty day turned into me doing this:
That’s Roblox, some sort of computer game my 10-year-old
is obsessed with plays with her friends.
I started the day off with a different, craftier plan. We would paint and glitter up the pile of foam pumpkins I had grabbed from the Dollar Tree.
We got as far as one pumpkin each.
As always, Liv is much more confident and free in her art than I am. She is finished with her pumpkin, while I’m now planning a trip to Michaels to find the perfect shade of lime green glitter to match the paint on my pumpkin.
She lost interest after the one pumpkin and crawled into her computer game. Then she asked if I would play with her, too. She’s been after me for months to do it, and I keep turning her down. Tween computer games just aren’t my idea of fun.
But there was something about the look on her face, the tone of her voice, and how she just. kept. after me. She really really wanted this. And so I caved.
About an hour into the computer game torture, her friend calls her on Facetime and I think I’m off the hook. These two spend hours with each other on Facetime and Roblox. I can make my exit.
Liv has plans for us alllll to play this game together. I’m looking at the clock figuring out how long until I can make my graceful exit, when I hear her friend say these words.
“I wish my parents as cool as your mom and played Roblox, too.”
Wow. How often do you hear your kid’s friend say you’re cool?
I know the time is nearing when my daughter and her friends will want me nowhere near when they’re doing their thing. So what if it’s not the crafty glittery free-for-all I had imagined? She’s welcoming me into her world. That shit’s gold.
I probably played the computer game for another hour. I don’t know. I quit keeping track of the time, and just soaked in the time I got to spend in their tweeny world.