We are a household that tries to limit technology.
That’s not to say that we don’t own video gaming systems, cell phones, or laptops. We have our fair share of those things. But there are time limitations on the TV watching and the playing of aforementioned video games. Even the educational ones.
Jayce is allowed to watch one show each day. And he uses the computer to explore Playhouse Disney dot com every couple of days or so, for about twenty minutes at a time.
But he doesn’t own a DS. Or any other handheld gaming system. He’s only three, after all, and we figure the longer we can hold out, the better.
Older sister–on the other hand–does have a gaming system. Albeit a Leapster. We encourage her to play it because it’s sort of a sneaky way to get in more reading and arithmetic practice.
Does anybody even say arithmetic anymore?
Back to my point though.
So Jayce, apparently, is sort of envious of big sissy’s Leapster.
He sees her playing her princess game. And Ratatouille. And Diego.
He wants a piece of the action sometimes.
Instead of boring old alphabet floor puzzles.
But the game is off limits.
This he knows.
Which, I’m guessing, is precisely why I found him like this, this morning:
In case you can’t make it out, he’s in a bathroom cabinet. With the game.
This bathroom is positioned in between the playroom and Cassidy’s bedroom.
I heard the game, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out where the noise was coming from. I must have walked past it a half dozen times, the most confounded look on my face all the while.
I looked at the cabinet and thought nah, no way.
Then I opened it.
And sure enough.
It was so stinkin’ cute I didn’t even make him turn off the game.
I just let him be.
“Shut the door please”, he asked.
And then, his voice muffled by the cabinet door, “and turn out the light.”
Yes sir.
Will do.
