The writing was on the wall….
‘Just think of what you could have written,’ Jason muttered as he walked out of the office, and away from where I was sitting hunched over at the computer. Trying to dissolve gems in one minute intervals. Aka playing Bejeweled Blitz.
It’s true. Since I miraculously, mistakenly achieved a score of 178,000 (give or take) several days ago, I’ve put in a good hour or two per day playing the stupid game. And the sad thing is, I didn’t come close to breaking my record. There were a couple of games in the 100’s but generally I hovered around the 25,000 mark. Occasionally hitting the 50’s.
It was actually sort of embarassing, to have reached such lofty heights. And then to consistently score in the 5th percentile.
I was fervently playing again today, while trying to parent the boys ‘remotely’. ‘Stop yelling at your brother,’ I’d yell from the computer. Without any clue as to what the ruckus was about. ‘We’re not ready to go yet,’ I warned as they stood at the door, wearing shoes, waiting to pick up their dad. For a good fifteen minutes.
When I finally tore myself away from the computer, after scoring a pitiful 65,000 or something like that, I found the house in disarray. Pastel chalks lying on the floor. DVDs strewn about. The laptop mysteriously opened, with the DVD application activated. Apparently ‘someone’ had tried to help themselves to watching a movie. Unsuccessfully.
We got in the car-van and I felt like a terrible mother slash human being. Had I really holed up in the office for the better part of an hour, playing a dumb game?
When we returned home I tried to steer clear of the computer, but it beckoned me; called to me to try and beat my record. Or, at least come sort of close. Maybe just one more game? Or three or five?
An email from my friend ‘Ricky’ convinced me it was time to pull the plug on my addiction. She confessed she’d bought the Bejeweled Blitz application for her iphone, and had been playing somewhat ‘fervently’. She lamented that, had she spent the same amount of time at the gym, she’d be in spectacular shape.
It was my Bridget Jones wake up call. With Jason standing over my shoulder – undoubtedly waiting for his turn to play – I deactivated the application. ‘Are you sure,’ the computer asked me. No, but before I could second guess myself, I clicked ‘yes’.
If my life was a movie, I’d pretend that things miraculously turned around instantly. The boys started getting along. They no longer destroyed things. The house was clean. We had quality family time. Etc.
Instead, I crept up to the tent Jason had made for the boys. ‘Can I come into your tent?’ I asked. ‘No, there’s not enough room….it’s just for boys,’ my oldest replied.
In an effort to be superfun mom, I decided to ply them with candy. I doled out a small handful of Smarties for each boy. They immediately demanded more. And when I refused, the Hen screamed so loud, Jason came running out of the office asking why he was bleeding from the mouth. It was red drool – from the red Smarties, actually.
It certainly sounded like he was bleeding.