Here’s a word of advice. If you’re playing Toy Blast, and you get the chance to win unlimited lives for 24 hours, don’t do it. Seriously, it’s not wise. Sure, you may have the day off, and sure, the husband might be gone, the kids might just want to hang out with their friends anyhow, and you know you’ve long accepted that you can’t get any work done when they’re in the house anyhow. But listen to me here.
If there happens to be a ToyBlast tournament going on that weekend, then do not, by any means, start playing. I’m serious, you need to walk away. It would be one thing if you’re at an airport with free wifi and a charging cord, and you have a long layover or your flight’s been delayed. Or if it’s the dead of winter and it’s so cold you can feel each nose hair stabbing into your nostril the second you step outside. But if it’s February in Cleveland, and it’s freaking 67 degrees, good grief, just uninstall the app and get outside!
Sure, you put the phone in your pocket as you walked the dog. Sure, you even attempted a lame-ass run with your 12yo (who was really being quite kind not to ridicule you for running slower than his walking speed). And yes, you tossed the football with your 10yo a whole seven times before the neighbor kids showed up and you were promptly ditched. That, my friend, is not a good excuse to console yourself with your unlimited lives. Contrary to what you chose to tell yourself, that was not a “sign from above” that you really ought to keep playing.
And while feeding your kids leftovers is a perfectly valid parenting decision, your 15yo rightly called you out for suggesting that it would be okay to relax the “no phones during dinner” rule. He did right putting his phone away, and you showed you were not too far gone when you returned your phone to your pocket for the remainder of the meal.
However, when you’re sitting and watching television with your kids, even if you’ve already recently watched those episodes of “Malcolm in the Middle,” all the bonus points you’d earned by letting them choose the show were promptly forfeited when you played on your phone the entire time.
And finally, if you find yourself checking the clock on the nightstand at one a.m. and you decide to keep playing, please listen to that voice inside that’s screaming for you to stop. Finally turning it off at three a.m.? Well, let’s just say you should have remembered that the dog would need to be let out by seven thirty, so you’re not getting any sympathy here.
As for when you choose instead to read your Kindle the next night in bed (sure, tell yourself you’ve learned, and that it has nothing to do with the fact that your unlimited lives stint is over; you’re not fooling anyone, you know), you know that moment when you go to turn the page by tapping the right side of the screen? Well, the fact that you expected a column of letters to disappear from the screen and have others fall into their place? That, my dear, is called withdrawal. In the form of poetic justice.
Disclaimer: GeekMom played a free download of this app. Then again, it’s a free app, so you can too. But if you’ve been reading, you do so at your own risk…