The Dreaded Day Has Come
It’s my fault. I wanted him to stay in a bubble and never know about this, but when you have such nasty materials lying around the house, as I do, it was inevitable. It’s corrupting. It’s insidious. It’s depraved.
It’s Pokémon, and it’s consuming my son.
Hello. My name is SarabellaE, and I contract for a publishing company that publishes books about video games. I have Pokémon books in my house. Ones that I helped create. And my seven-year-old son found them, stashed under the bed, like so many girly mags.
But at this point the infection is mild.
I’m sure it will get worse. When Lucas eventually sounds out (or asks me) the names of the 300+ Pokémon in the book he has glommed on to, he’ll probably go looking for more. He doesn’t know about the cards yet. He doesn’t know about the handheld video games on many, many platforms. For now, he knows only that they are cute beasties in a book. They “revolve” into other Pokémon. He heard that at camp last week, I think.
Good grief. There are now 491 Pokémon. They’ve been multiplying since I looked last. It’s marketing at its finest. And just as the creators intended, it is darling Pikachu who has captured his heart.
But here’s the funny part. My Waldorf boy doesn’t do Pokémon on a screen. He isn’t glued to a gadget, leveling up and increasing his stats.
He “revolves” into one himself.
June 30, 2009 at 11:53 pm
It’s an epidemic! Just wait until he finds out about trading cards. Em was Poke-obsessed between 7-8, And despite our best efforts (we made endangered species trading cards and planet trading cards) the Pokeness ran rampant throughout the household. That and Sailor Moon.
July 1, 2009 at 2:00 am
It is just adorable that you hide the pokemon under your bed. *chuckles*
July 1, 2009 at 3:28 am
He’s a daredevil, just like his old man.
“I love being a Pokemon!”