If you have children, and are a gamer, you have probably run into some awkward situations. There are some games that are perfectly acceptable for adults, and yet wildly inappropriate for children. Some parents may disagree, and buy Grand Theft Auto for their first grader, but for most of us, there's a line between what's a "me" game, and what's a "kid" game. This line varies from gamer family to gamer family, of course, and by child, as well. For my youngest, who is eight, we have a higher tolerance of sci-fi violence (such as that in Halo's campaigns) than we do human on human violence (Call of Duty comes to mind). Excessive realistic gore is a no-no (Left 4 Dead), but heavily stylized cartoon blood (Castle Crashers) is acceptable. For our older son, fifteen, all the above games are probably OK, but I'd draw the line at games with strong sexual content or excessive language. The point is, there are going to be some games on the shelf that your kids are not allowed to play.
Alas, the forbidden fruit is often the most enticing. The very fact that a game is off limits just makes it more appealing to kids. I find my son staring at game cases for Left 4 Dead, God of War, and other "daddy" games in a manner that can be likened to that of Indiana Jones and the golden idol. I wonder, what thoughts are going through his head? Does he wonder what gore is? Violence? Sexual themes? I certainly hope not. Perhaps he daydreams of skeletal archers and Boomer bile? Who knows.
Let me tell you, my son is a good kid. He never gets in trouble at school, always does his chores on time, and is, generally speaking, a darling little angel. It's difficult to believe he could do anything sneaky, or devious, at all. But as he grows older, he has been resorting to acts of stealth and trickery to get a glimpse of these games. And so, we have begun a game of cat and mouse, each countering the other's moves. I fight for his continued innocence, he fights for blood, gore, and intense violence. Thus far, I'm ashamed to admit, he is winning. He has developed some tactics in this war that I've found difficult to counter.
No Dad, I'm not watching. Really.
What I Don't See Can't Hurt Me
This is a very simple tactic, and is one of the first that was successful. Most typically, this stratagem is used when I play online, since the headset makes noises in the room harder to hear. I've sent Connor to another room, to play with his toys, take a bath, etc. As soon as my copy of Left 4 Dead goes in, I'm oblivious to the real world. Thus, when Connor comes out to the hallway, or as close to his bedroom door as possible. While he can't see the carnage, he can certainly hear it. The drums announcing a Tank, the Boomer's gurgle, and the cacophony of bullets and shells flying everywhere fill his ears. If (and that's a major if, he's a sneaky little thing) I catch him, I usually don't get too upset. While the sounds of Left 4 Dead or similar games may be scary, they aren't usually M-rated in and of themselves. Unless Bill starts up with his potty mouth, that is.
Listening to the game seems to increase Connor's desire to see it in its full glory, however; so, the arms race escalates.
Take Cover!
To understand the next tactic, we go to acclaimed shooter Gears of War 2. I'm a huge fan of this game, not only because of the fine co-op, excellent graphics, and fun gameplay, but most especially for the family filters. With a simple option tweaks, the M-rated game is cleaned up considerably, with no bad language, and sparks instead of blood. Using these settings, I have no problem letting Connor watch, or even play from time to time. Apparently, he has learned from Marcus and Dom the value of using cover to his advantage.
We have a sectional sofa, which takes up a large part of our living room. It's large enough that Connor can hide behind it easily. When I send him to his room so I can fire up God of War, he quickly complies. By doing so, he doesn't arouse any suspicion, and soon I am merrily executing minotaurs in a spew of gore. As I revel in the bloodbath, Connor waits, patiently, until my attention is diverted elsewhere. Quickly, soundlessly, he moves, and assumes a position behind the couch. Creeping ever so slowly, he peers around the edge of the sofa, and gains an unobstructed view of the game. If mom or brother don't come by, he may be able to watch for quite some time. As the blood seeps from the wounds of Kratos' fallen foes, so, too, slowly, bit by bit, my darling son's innocence bleeds out from his couch vantage point. Eventually, he's caught, but the damage has already been done. My little baby had learned much from the Spartan and was now much wiser in the ways of combat.
Defiant as Kratos himself, Connor quickly became even more brazen in his efforts.
Plan Your Work, and Work Your Plan
Planning and situational awareness are important in any conflict. For this battle, it would be no different. Though I might have the experience of my thirty five years, an adult intellect, and the final say in any toy-purchasing decision, I was far from invulnerable. By using a downright brilliant tactic, my dear son, who still wears Iron Man pajamas and sleeps with a night light on, outwitted his own father, right before my eventually tear-filled eyes.
I'm at my favored position on the couch, optimally placed for surround sound. Various M-rated activities are on the screen. Bullets flying, blood everywhere, and the roar of explosions fill the room. Connor comes in to talk to me, standing to the side of the TV, where it seems, from my perspective, like he cannot see the screen. To further the illusion, the lad holds his hand up on the side of his face, as if to block the TV from his sight. He proceeds to ask me some random things, just general father son chitchat. I answer as best I can, most of my attention still focused on the game. This goes on for several minutes.
Then, my oldest son walks by, notices the situation, and begins to yell. "He's watching through the mirror! He can see it all!" Big brother has officially ratted Connor out. "You all think he's so innocent and he's just playing you!" Connor begins to laugh, maniacally, like some deranged mad scientist caught just before his plan to destroy the world comes to fruition. Perhaps the following diagram will shed some light into the inner workings of his devious mind.
Artist's representation of the events described
Quite impressive, isn't it? Everything about this encounter was rehearsed. He had pinpointed the exact place he could stand and look as if he was being a good boy and avoiding the screen, while at the same time, the mirror allowed him to see everything. I wonder if he had scripted out the exact topics he would discuss with me, in order to maximize his chances of viewing. In any event, his execution of the plan was flawless, and had it not been for his older sibling, he might still be using this method today.
This leaves me in an odd situation as a parent. On the one hand, I'm disappointed that Connor doesn't accept our rules for these games. On the other, I feel bad for even playing them at all if there's a chance he'll see. I must admit a tiny voice in the back of my head tells me I should be proud of my son's ingenuity and resourcefulness.
So what is a parent to do? The best answer is also the most difficult: be patient. Time is, after all, on your side. There was a time when my oldest son was banned from watching certain games, yet now, he's matured to the point where he can handle them. In the grand scheme of things, it won't be too much longer before Connor and I will be wading through the blood of fallen enemies or blowing up scores of zombies with a pipe bomb together. Part of me looks forward to that day very much; the other part wishes, against all reason, that he will stay eight years old forever.
After all, if he's this devious when he's in second grade, imagine what he'll be like when he's in high school!