Pokemon DS

My son is obsessed with DS Pokemon. Okay, he’s obsessed with Pokemon and playing with the DS Pokemon is as close as he can come to actually capturing and playing with a real Pokemon.

On the car ride in to school he talks to me about Pokemon.

In the morning while I’m doing my yoga, he’s reading the DS guide-book and asking me questions about Pokemon.

At the breakfast table he talks to me about Pokemon.

At dinner he talks to me about Pokemon.

Going to the bathroom he talks about Pokemon.

Taking a shower he talks about Pokemon.

He asks me which one’s he should trade with and for. He asks me which one’s he should keep. He asks me which psychic Pokemon is more powerful. For the record I usually don’t know but I guess a lot. Whenever I suggest something he usually doesn’t need me too. I’m his sounding board, and nothing more. But I’m glad he needs me for something. He wants me to get a DS too so we can play together wirelessly. Did I mention how much I dislike the DS? What to do. The game is too expensive and I just don’t think I could pick up that grenade. Still, I watch the TV show with him and the movies. I like them. It’s the DS I have a harder time with. Fortunately my son has some friends he talks to about Pokemon, and can trade with but I know it is a game played mostly solo and I wish it wasn’t.

In the last month he has played less games and more DS. It worries me. I keep waiting for the intensity level to go down. This afternoon Mom-ita put a moratorium on playing any electronic game and though M-ito had trouble with it, we had a good night of talking, thumb wrestling, arm wrestling, and laughing – something I’ve missed since the DS came to town. Perhaps it’s my imagination. I’m torn. I like the Pokemon thing. I still don’t like the DS.


M-ito has been looking at my Arnold Schwarzenegger Encyclopedia of Bodybuilding. I’ve had it since I was in my twenties and began a journey to gain weight and put on muscle. All I can say in my own defense is that I was young and impressionable and had been in the Peace Corps and lost a lot of weight to five cases of food poisoning. And… body building helped me to put the weight on and keep it on in spite of the 120 degree heat, the amoebas and the parasites. I went from a scary stick thin figure of 155 lbs to 185 lbs. And Arnold helped me. Yes he did.

So he says to Mom-ita, “Mom-ita, where did he get those big muscles? He’s gotta be eating a lot of spinach.”

“That’s right, honey,” she replied. “He probably does.”


Incense and Peppermints

We’re eating dinner. Mom-ita has made chicken burritos. M-ito has taken a bite. He really likes these burritos and there aren’t many things we cook that he really likes – tolerates, yes, but really likes? That’s another story. He takes a bite and says, “This bread is crisp. I am incensed that it is crisp.”

“Where’d you get that word from?” Mom-ita asks.

“Schoooool. Schoooool,” M-ito says, making a funny face.

I watch while eating my own burrito.

“Is it one of your spelling words?” Mom-ita asks.

“It’s an A-plus word,” M-ito says.

Later that evening, M-ito is sitting next to me in the living room, his Ds on his lap. A light on the side of his machine changes from green to red. “I’m incensed,” he says, “that my DS has run out of batteries. I’m incensed.”

I put my arm around him, smile, and go back to reading my book.