Ruining the boy

We have fully brought Jacob into the fold of Geekdom.

We have taught the boy Dungeons and Dragons.

For those that don't know, many Saturday evenings in the Feesh household are dedicated to playing table top role-playing games. Other geeks gather, and we toss dice and mark of things on character sheets until the wee hours.

And eat Cheetos. One must never forget the Cheetos.

Jacob has grown up around these Saturday rituals, so he knows the base components: miniatures, game mat, markers, sheets, and dice. He didn't know, however, how they all fit together.

Last Saturday, he asked if he could play. We had to say no (let's just say my current adventure is a bit... earthy for seven year olds to get), but it got me to thinking. Why couldn't he learn the basics of the D20 system? I thought about my first experience with gaming, and remembered how I only ever seemed to look at a few stats and my weapons. As I grew more familiar with the system, I started using skills and worrying about what my willpower was, but in the beginning, I could have fit my relevant character sheet on an index card.

Monday, I drew up an outline for a youth-oriented character sheet. I only worried about bonuses for three stats, two weapons, some basic armor, and hit points. I had JT roll a D4 to see what his attribute bonuses were, worked out his AC, and we were off.

Of course, he demanded that IB play as well, so IB drew up a similar character sheet, and they were off exploring my impromptu dungeon.

JT. Loved. It. He was so sad at 8 pm when we had to stop, because we were out of rooms to explore. I promised him we'd do some more later in the week. This morning, he verbally mapped out his own dungeon to us, along with the villains we'd find ("five zombie ducks" was my favorite) and the treasure we'd get ("a fire sword! Like in City of Heros!").

He picked up the mechanics rapidly. Rolling high for him was good; the monsters rolling high was bad. I think he was picking up that his bow used his dex bonus and his sword used his strength bonus. Adding slowed us a bit, but I can sympathize. I have issues with adding when I'm in the middle of a fight.

I'm going to post his character sheet later. I'm thinking of writing something on gaming with children if this goes well. The gamer in me is delighted he likes another thing we enjoy, and the parent in me is already thinking of ways to sneak a bit of education into the games (A letter he finds and has to read? Some problem solving? Deduction?)

Not dead! Just busy!

So what have the feeshes been up to?

Well, HM has been rocking her first syllable. It was adorable, until she abandoned it for testing her lung development. She's taken to yelling. Not crying or squealing. Just full on, Amazonian war cry yelling.



JT finished out the first grade, and is now in the brain melting time of his summer vacation. They gave us a packet of materials to do over the summer, of which we've looked over once and never touched again. I predict a frantic review in August, but for now, I'm letting him have his summer.

He also got new glasses. Getting new glasses is always an adventure of making him happy, appeasing my mother (the one of us with sense when it comes to glasses and face shape), and getting the computer to okay kids glasses with transitions and bifocals. I thought our tech was going to have a nervous breakdown after the first forty-five minutes of wrangling with the green and black screen.

The glasses, by the way, are back on the front and yellow on the black. Like Bumblebee. They're also square. Like a hipster. So he's like a extraterrestrial emobot.

I've been on a kick with bake it yourself, lately. It all started with Papa Johns ticking me off by telling me that the 12 inch pizza in front of me was 14 inches, and that the dough shrank when they cooked it.

Yeast + Flour + Water != shrinkage.

So I decided I would never order from them again (the quality had gone way down, anyway), and I would learn to make my own pizza. After a few false starts, I finally got a pie that made not only me happy, but a few of the pizza snobs I know happy as well. Then, fearing our farmers market cinnabon lady had passed (she hadn't), I learned to make cinnabons. Then strawberry jam. Now I'm working on pasta.

Notes from a sick day

I had JT and HM at home for three days, due to winning the sick kid lottery. Ironically, JT was fine once he had meds. However, since the school sent him home with the flu, they could determine when he was fit to return.

Note to not-yet-parents: taking a day off in precaution is usually a good guard against being forced to take three off in punishment.

Anyway, JT and I had a good time, and he gave me some bon mots.

JT: "I want to watch teenage robot."
Me: "It's not on."
JT: "When is it on?"
Me: "Four. I showed you that already."
JT: "It is not four."
Me: "Is that my fault?"
JT: "...Yes."

Me: "So, Jake, do you want to marry Jenny the Teenage Robot."
JT: (incredulous) "She's a robot and it's a cartoon!"
Note: JT has better grasp of reality than most anime freaks.

Avatar credits: "Long ago, when the four nations were yadda yadda yadda..."
JT: "Long ago? Like 1977?"

Sick Kid Lottery

I have two sick kids here today. It's been pretty calm, and I did have two moments of hilarity.

1. Jimmy Neutron had an invention get the Blue Screen of Death.

2. The same Jimmy Neutron episode was rather scary. I looked over, and JT was hiding under his blanket.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. But I think HM's scared of this show."

"Oh, really? Not you?"

"No. I'm not scared."

"Okay then. I'll keep an eye on HM for you."

At least he doesn't have to worry about exploding torsos anymore

I came back from the farmer's market on Sunday, and had barely gotten my bags sorted when the boy casually remarked:

"So, when do I get to marry you?"

Wow. I hadn't even bought him any cinnabons.

"You don't get to marry me."

"What?!" He set down his game. "Why not!?"

"There's a law that you can't marry your mother. You'd get arrested."

He looked shocked. "Nuh-uh."

"Also, I'm already married to Daddy."

"That's not fair. I should be married to you. He's had a turn." I love it when the same terms used for the 360 are applied to me.

"That's just the way it is, sweetie."

At that point, he burst into tears.

"But I want to be married!"

"You'll be married one day. Just not to me. And only once you're an adult."

"Life is not fair!"

I finally got him to calm down with a gift of an edition of Captain Underpants, but I did think it only fair to warn IB. And to let him know that he still has competition.

Still. I'm a bit pissed off every time Freud actually has a valid opinion about something.

Soon, he'll be borrowing our stuff

You know your kid is getting big when you grab a shirt out of your stack, and have it all the way on before realizing that it's actually your son's. I was pulling at the bottom edge, wondering why it wouldn't go past my belt line when I noticed the Transformers logo.

1. The diet must be working!
2. It won't be long before he's snagging our shirts and wearing them. I'm just glad I'm converting my section to girly strange tees.

Another one bites the dust

Another tooth bit the dust yesterday, and once again earned us "Worst Parents of the Year" nominations.

The tooth coming out surprised us, as it was only a little bit loose earlier in the day. Apparently monetary gains have made JT more stoic about a bit of mouth pain. It was rather late in the evening when it happened, so I think he might have been messing with it all day. Not long after making the appropriate fuss did we send him to bed, reminding him to put it under his pillow. We returned to folding laundry.

That morning, IB came downstairs.

"Um, do you have five bucks?"

"Wh-- CRAP."

See, one big difference between the generation before us and our generation: paper money. Our parents always carried cash, since so many places still didn't take plastic. It was still pretty common when I was a kid to walk into a store and find they didn't take credit cards. Now, I only know of one fast food place (not even a chain. A singular restaurant) that doesn't take debit or credit. Hell, at the farmer's market, you can use your plastic with the orchid lady. There's no reason for IB and I to carry cash.

This is proving to be a problem when it comes to playing the tooth fairy.

Happily, I remembered at the last minute that IB keeps a jug of change. He dug through that, found five dollars worth of quarters, and the boy was suitably delighted.

Still, going to the bank today and getting some fives. Because he's got a lot of teeth left.