When the Xbox infection hits Dad

If you have a child, whether they’re two or 42, I’m sure you’ve had at least one experience where you’ve been frustrated with your son or daughter. Unless you’re an alien. Or maybe Mother Theresa. But then you couldn’t have kids to begin with. Anyway, I digress.

Each of my kids are amazing and wonderful. Everyday, I am thankful for all the good in my life. And yet, there are certain things that they do that are guaranteed to, one day, make my head spontaneously combust and spew fire.

My little peanut has issues with organization. That’s a nice way of saying that she doesn’t have any. That, in fact, her life is like a suitcase packed by a toddler; full of random and bizarre items that are spilling out the sides and getting stuck in the zipper. However, she desperately wants to be organized and is so fabulous in so many other ways, that whenever I see her scarf sticking out the closed car door, I just shake my head and laugh. At least it’s not (usually) around her neck yet.

My oldest has a different issue that is the thorn in our side: video games. Perhaps your child is also a gaming junkie and you feel my pain. There is nothing like worrying that your kid’s brain is going to melt and run right out his ears. But again, this child is brilliant, kind and thoughtful. He is a teenager who is respectful and responsible, so I try not to get too crazy about the hours wasted in front of the mind-numbing Xbox monitor. However, I can’t quite say the same about my husband.

The video game console in our house was a gift from Santa. On numerous occasions, Brian has silently cursed the jolly ole fella for bringing such a plague upon our house. On other occasions, he has threatened to bring it out into the driveway and smash it with a hammer. I believe he has even called it the worst thing to ever happen to our family. I would think our child’s horrendous concussion at the age of 10 that left him, briefly, without the ability to remember the alphabet or perhaps the death of our dog would outrank the presence of an Xbox, but who am I to judge.

There have been times where I watched Brian get so mad about the amount of time our son spends playing that I thought maybe he was taking anger management classes from Liam Neeson. I mean, sometimes, I wonder if the husband doth protest too much. Particularly when his tirade is interrupted by the ding of his phone, alerting him to the start of a war in Clash of Clans.

To be honest, it’s hard to take Brian’s Xbox rage seriously, when he’s only just told me that he needs to upgrade his towers. I don’t know what that means, but since our home does not contain a tower, I have to assume it is video game related.

Last weekend, while I was prepping and cooking dinner, Brian’s phone was going crazy. He’s an elected official in his union and our weekends often involve multiple conversations with other members over items of importance. Initially, when he answered the phone and began speaking with a co-worker, I assumed this was the case. I became suspicious when I overheard him say, “No, I’m ready (pause). Yes, everything should be in place (pause). As long as we have enough cannons, we’re going to win.”

At this point, he called to our daughter, “The war is starting.” and the two of them began having a conversation that might as well have been in Mandarin Chinese, because that’s how much I understood. I began to shut them out but quickly came to attention when I noticed that Brian had lowered his voice and was admonishing our youngest child for not spending enough time with her clan. Seriously?

“Did you just tell our daughter that she needs to play more video games?!”

“What do you have bat hearing?”

“No, I have mother hearing. And you are a terrible father.”

The whole thing reminds me of the super devout, crazed preacher who rails against sin and debauchery and then gets caught in a hotel room with a bag of cocaine and a prostitute. When you’re living in a glass house, you should lock up all the stones.

As far as teenagers go, we kind of hit the jackpot. Our kid reads Stephen Hawking. He’s an honor student who looks out for his little sister (even when he swears he hates her) and yes, he plays a ridiculous amount of video games. But I figure, as long as he’s not actually killing anyone, in real life, we can maybe ease off, just a little. Particularly when a certain parent has just spent the evening shoring up his castle or fighting a dragon.

While everyone was wasting their time playing video games, I made an awesome dinner. I found a fried rice recipe a few years ago that uses up left over rice and veggies and cooks up in a manner of minutes.
Fried Rice

Ingredients

3 tablespoons oil
2 eggs, beaten
1 bunch scallions, roughly chopped
1 cup leftover pork, chicken, or beef, diced
1 cup frozen peas and carrots, thawed (plus any leftover vegetables you have on hand)
4 cups cold cooked white or brown rice
4 tablespoons soy sauce
Salt and pepper to taste

Preparation

1. In a large skillet or wok, heat 1 tablespoon of the oil over medium-high heat.

2. Add the eggs and scallions. Cook, breaking up the eggs with a spoon until they are lightly browned.

3. Stir in the meat, vegetables, rice, and the remaining oil. Increase heat slightly and cook until the rice is crispy, about 5 minutes.

4. In a small bowl, combine the soy sauce with 4 tablespoons of water. Pour the mixture over the rice.

5. Continue cooking, stirring occasionally, until the rice has absorbed all the liquid, 3 to 5 minutes.

6. Season with the salt and pepper and serve, with extra soy sauce on the side.

We use whatever leftover vegetables we have lying around including brussel sprouts, broccoli and cauliflower. And we never use peas because half of the people in our glass house won’t eat them.