"I Spy..."

A few months ago, we were all on a family car trip when my son Aidan, our middle schooler, announced,

"Let's play I Spy!"

"I want to play!" declared William, our five year old.

"Okay," I agreed.

My wife, Christine, was waking from a brief nap, but she absorbed the exchange and readied her senses.

Aidan began, "I spy something yellow."

"That yield sign," I offered.

"Yes, nice job Dad!" Aidan belted.

My turn.

"I spy something with a lot of tires," I provided.

"That big truck over there," Christine answered.

"No, that's not it," I exclaimed.

"That bridge we're coming up on," Aidan guessed.

"Yes!" I shouted.

"A bridge has a lot of tires?" Christine asked.

"On it," Aidan explained, "I spy something sharp."

"The curve in the road," Christine guessed.

"Good one, Mom, but no," Aidan said.

"The edge of the guard rail," I answered.

"Yes! Go Dad," Aidan responded.

"I spy something heavy," I suggested.

"How 'bout that truck now?" Christine questioned.

"No, not the truck," I said.

"That airplane," William offered.

"Yes, that's right!" I applauded.

"What plane? I don't see a airplane," Christine questioned.

"The one way up there," Aidan explained.

"There's no airplane up there," Christine declared.

"Yes, there is," William chimed, "I spy something green."

"The trees," Christine offered forcefully.

"No, good try Mommy," William responded.

"That guy's shirt in the car ahead of us," Aidan exclaimed.

"Yes!" William shouted.

"What?" Christine objected.

"I spy something long," Aidan offered.

"This trip, let me tell you," Christine lamented.

"The transmission on that truck," I answered.

"Yes! Another for Dad," Aidan shouted.

"I spy something..."

"The leaves on that tree," William said.

"Yes!" I exclaimed.

"I spy..."

"The bird that was in that tree this morning, but isn't there now," Aidan said.

"Yes!" William shouted.

"Wait a minute. You didn't even finish. I'm not playing anymore," Christine retorted.

"I spy something blue," Aidan said.

No one offered a suggestion. There was a long pause as the miles ticked away. A blue mini van loomed just ahead of us. I pulled close.

"That mini van?" Christine asked cautiously.

The three boys exchanged looks of confusion. William mouthed the words, "blue mini van," then shook his head.

"The pen under the visor in that mini van ahead of us," I proudly announced.

"Yes! Dad got it again," Aidan responded.

"What! How can you tell there's a pen in that car?" Christine lamented.

"You know, Mommy, you can't win all the time," William lectured.

"All the time? How about just once!" Christine objected, "I quit."

"What kind of example is that?" Aidan asked.

"Yeah, Mommy. You have to keep playing," William ordered.

"Okay, I'll play only if you're gonna be fair," Christine explained.

"Life is not fair," William declared.

Christine looked to me with a smirk.

"He's right you know," I said then offered, "I spy something round."

A jeep with a spare tire pulled in front of us. There was a long pause as we skirted down the highway in full view of a tire looming in front of the windshield.

Christine finally asked, "That spare tire?

 

"No, no, not that," I said.

"What! You have to be..." Christine shouted.

"The earth!" William offered.

"Haley's Comet!" Aidan shouted.

"I'll tell you what I spy. I spy three boys cheating!" Christine declared.

The miles fell away in silence. After some time, Aidan said,

"Let's play Twenty Questions!"

Editor's Note: Originally posted on September 8, 2016.

Online Village

My teenage son, Aidan, has been playing games online for more than half his life. He routinely teams up with the same people from all over the world. One guy lives in Singapore. The most remarkable thing about his online activities is that all of the people he interacts with are older than him, some by decades.

I know what your thinking. How do we protect our son from online predators? When he was young, my wife and I had never filled his head with a fear of strangers. In fact as a six year old, he once struck up a conversation in a public park with a heavily tattooed dude with numerous facial piercings. The guy clearly was cautious as he spoke with him out of fear of being accused of something heinous. When he saw that I took notice, he exclaimed,

“He started talking to me first!”

They say babies must learn to fear snakes. The same is true about strangers. Our approach was as long as he was at an age where adult supervision was necessary, we would worry more about the adult supervisors than strangers. Experts say children are far more likely to be molested by a family member or a neighbor than a total unknown. We've always been concerned about the people with physical access to our children, not random people in public. We were cautious of babysitters. Once a first time sitter, the daughter of a friend, asked us what time we were planning on coming back. She wanted to know because her boyfriend and his friend were swinging by to pick up her car which needed some work. As we drove out the driveway, I suddenly turned around. I was uncomfortable with two men I didn’t know having access to my son in our home. We paid her for her time, then never asked her back.

Now, my teenage son routinely games with a 35 year old married dude from Minnesota and a twenty something former Marine from Michigan. A friend of his created an online team called "House Platypus" which includes some kids from his school as well as a young man, Craig, from Missouri, now a high school senior. Aidan and I used to play Halo and Minecraft together all the time. As he got older and more proficient, playing a first person shooter game with someone as lousy as me just wasn't fun for him. Once I was dismayed that Aidan didn't want to play Player Unknown's Battlegrounds (Pubg) with me. His lack of interest bothered me in a way I wasn't prepared to absorb.

A few days later, Aidan asked me if I would play games with him. That never happened before. Later, I learned that he had mentioned our spat to Craig who expressed how lucky he was to have a father who wanted to play online games with him. Another time, when he was having girl troubles, he got advice from his marine buddy. Shortly after returning from boot camp in Sea Cadets last summer, he unexpectedly broke up with his girlfriend, telling her,

"I feel like I'm too young to be involved with someone."

She didn't take it well, being convinced he was interested in another girl. I can tell you that wasn't the case. Aidan swore off girls until after high school. One of his older online buddies told him "not to grow up too fast" which I'm certain resonated with him. That kind of advice comes only from a mature person who's likely a parent themselves. I once asked Aidan what he talked about with these much older guys.

"Tea," he said.

Apparently, one of his online friends is a connoisseur of brewed tea and has advised my son to get off Snapple and Pure Leaf in favor of home brewing. Aidan purchased a Keurig which is set up next to his computer in his room. Now, he openly discusses reducing his sugar intake as well as the health benefits of green tea. It's doubtful that my son would have listened if I offered such advice. 

Aidan and I are similar in many ways. Yesterday, he showed me a frag video, synchronized to a jazz tune, he's making. One transitional scene went on at length, consuming a lot of time without clearly defining the story. He of course regarded it as pure genius. I explained to him what I would've done. We argued back and fourth for a good hour with me giving up at every turn. Finally, he agreed to try my suggestion, but he planned on running it by one his online man friends. His plan was to show the guy both cut scenes and let him pick the best. We worked on the new scene together. Aidan incorporated many advanced cinematographic features like subtle zooming to follow first perspective motion. When done, the final result was clearly superior. Aidan said,

"What I did made your idea work."

I told him, "The reason why we sometimes don't get along is because we're a lot alike, except I got forty years experience on you."

I'm unconcerned as to how he frames my advice. That he acted on my input is enough.

So how did my wife and I protect our son from online jerks? We helped him develop a sense of self worth and pride in his abilities and accomplishments. As a tech savvy kid, he taught himself how to block people on the sites he frequents. In all the many hours he's spent in a virtual world, he's banned only a few people. The hardest thing to do as a parent is to impart life lessons that will help a child survive in a world without them. Too many parents today want to keep their family together so they foster dependence and perpetuate childhood. As an older parent, I know that time is not on my side so I toil steadfastly on my own obsolescence. The day will come for my boy as it did for me when there is no one ahead of him.

Now, if I can only get him not to drain the hot water tank every time he takes a shower.