I do not play video games. There are other distractions that capture me, so I am not in a position to make judgements about Mario Cart. But when the blasting leaps off the screen and into the room, I take issue.
Benjamin bought a new game. Historically, he is more inclined to watch videos and compose lists of symbols, than to blast cartoon bad guys. But this one sounded fun and he was soon playing.
When Ben bumps up against problems with cooking lunch, or rotating laundry, I can assist. But my knowledge of cartoon adversaries is null. So as he started to ramp up
about a bridge he could not cross I was worthless. He stomped upstairs to demand that his brother address this catastrophic problem.
"NOW!"
What followed was not pretty. Ben's frustration was as explosive as the bombs on the screen, and no one was the
winner. John managed to wrangle Ben to his room, though there were angry words echoing on the stairs.
The second night it all played on repeat, and most of our higher level thinking sank to new lows.
Then on the third day, Ben stepped into
action. He uninstalled that level. Just like that he chose to avoid what felt like an emotional trap. I was stunned.
For someone with challenges, he showed great wisdom. He does not want to hurt the people he loves, even though the allure of the game was strong.
Sounds like a super hero to me.