So Long, Farewell. It’s Time for Me to Re-Spawn.
“I can’t find my house,” my 11-year-old daughter, Dimples, lamented.
At the time, she was sitting in our living room listening to the Sound of Music soundtrack (the good one). Since I get lost all of the time, especially when I am actually inside the place I’m trying to find (like a store at the mall – “Where the heck is Macy’s? Oh yeah, I’m standing in it.”), I wasn’t completely surprised by her proclamation – just a little sad that she inherited the defective gene of disorientation from me.
Then I realized she was playing Minecraft. She is probably the only person in the world who plays Minecraft while she is singing along to “Do, Re, Mi”.*
(If you do not know what Minecraft is, then
I hate you consider yourself fortunate to be in a state of blissful ignorance, pour yourself a glass of champagne, and pull up the delightful YouTube video of, “What Does the Fox Say?” to celebrate your escape from Stupid Things to Which Kids Today Become Addicted.)
“I should just kill myself,” she announced.
“That seems a bit drastic,” I said.
“No, then I can re-spawn and I’ll end up back at my house again.”
Well, at least the game fosters creative problem solving skills.
I think I’ll try that technique the next time I’m at the mall and can’t find my car in the parking lot.
(*But, apparently, “My Favorite Things” is big in the Minecraft world…)