Dad, Their Biggest Fan

Today, my eldest daughter made me so proud.

Did she win the national spelling bee? Did she recite the constitution backwards while riding a unicycle and playing the Star Spangled Banner on a kazoo? Did she whip up a perfect plate of cheese fries with bits of real bacon and just the right amount of jalapeños?

None of the above, though we’re working on that last one.

She impressed her papa, the simple man that I am, by earning a gold trophy during a licensing segment of GT3.

BOOM BABY!!

Don’t pretend; you know you’re jealous. She’s cuter than your kid, she’s smarter than your kid, she makes better cheese fries than your kid, AND she totally rocks at GT3. That’s it, I’m getting one of those goofy bumper stickers that says all manner of generic stuff about my kid…except instead of being the best hall monitor at South Wiffletonville County Elementary, it’ll say she kicks butt at GT3.

For you less than plugged-in parents out there, that’s Gran Turismo 3. Yes, I encourage my children to play video games and computer games. More accurately, I play with them, and it’s boat loads of fun. I’m not going to try to argue for hand to eye coordination, motor skills, or anything else. I just think it’s fun, and they agree.

Of course, no matter what game they’re playing, if the front door opens or if they so much as hear the door keys rattle, they drop the video game controller (versus storing it away responsibly) and bolt for the door like cocker spaniels with one too many espressos building up in their bladders.

That makes me even prouder than the gold trophy.

No matter what computer or video game they’re playing or if they’re watching a movie or cartoons, if you offer to go play, they’re out the door…leaving every computer, television, light, and electrical device within reach of their grubby little fingers running at its highest setting (we’re working on this one, too). Actually, if you offer them a book or a board game, you get the same reaction.

Come to think of it, if you run a bath, they drop everything and head for the water.

MAN, MY KIDS ROCK!!!

I’m gonna go get a big foam finger, paint half my face what ever our family colors are, paint the other half of my face whatever the rest of the family colors are (actually, at least one half would have to be pink since I have all daughters…oh well), and run around the house chanting:

WE’RE #1!
WE’RE #1!
WE’RE #1!

…wait…

THEY’RE #1!
THEY’RE #1!
THEY’RE #1!

Yeah, that should do it.