Boys & Games

When I was a young girl I was that annoying little sister that always wanted to play/emulate/follow along with what my brother was up to. I didn’t have a big sister to play dress-up with, or put on makeup or talk about boys to (although, mind you, this did come later under influence with my girlfriends. I don’t even want to think of what my parents went through on this, especially my dad). I know my brother probably had no idea at the time and neither did I, but – playing with my brother – all of those things are some of the best memories I carry with me about being a little girl. Remember those things like Nintendo, Ninja Turtles, Transformers, to name a few? Well we also did crazy stuff like make Superman videos and brown bag puppet shows. I didn’t even care when he used our home-built Ninja Turtle catapult to launch my Barbies across the room. After all, it was for the sake of Baby Ninja Shamoo's command which was my brother through proxy.

Need I say more?

Now that I’m a big girl (heaven forbid too big – I do work out). These memories have driven me to a state of befuddlement on another issue I must contend with. So folks, here it is:

My darling husband.

I must admit it is different being married. It’s a challenge standing on its head, with great rewards. The best times of the day that I consciously savor are when my husband and I come home from our work/or studies and actually get to spend some time together bantering on about current events, philosophy, business, programming, politics, art, and other topics of interest to us. But it stops somewhere. And precisely, that is when the games begin.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not a self-inflicting martyr or presenting a “woe is me” argument by any means, (if you think that, you’re forgetting I’m a reasonably big girl and I lift weights) but I’ve definitely got something to say. And here’s what I’m talking about: Boys & Games. When they are together, I don’t like’em.

So what gives?

My perspective is this: You can assume once you’re married that in most cases people will expect you to go to work, in some shape, form or fellowship (that last one is for the über-smart or in the case of affirmative action, lucky). But, you also assume that you have in a sense created a new household separate from your parents. This household is a unit in itself that should take great pains to be properly nurtured, maintained, and stimulated. It’s a community of partners that creates a sense of well-being for each party. With that, comes the proper balance of work and play – we must not only sustain ourselves, but we must constantly take up things that will keep us happy. It’s also a partnership that demands encouragement and belief in the other partner’s capacities, even when the other partner refuses to grapple with their shortcomings or disbelief in those things.

But, what is the proper balance for work and play?

The more one plays the less time they have to take care of other things that must be done. In the case of a household that means one partner either leaving things impartially undone or taking up a disproportionate amount of things like care of the house itself (assuming you have one), routine domestic duties that simply must be done whether one partner helps out or not, or making sure the house is in a pleasant condition when visitors are present, or even perhaps making sure to meet financial budgetary obligations that simply have no fudge room.

Once again as for play, too much of a good thing can have adverse consequences for all of the above, especially for the continuance of the well-being for both parties. It is in affect a long-term mode of displacement. Too much play (i.e., too much time wasted on games, boys, ahem) will be pleasant temporarily, but only until other things get out of whack.

Whenever boys come into contact with computer games or any games of that sort it always causes a severe disruption in other things and I thus contemptuously remain unabated on this topic until compelling ideas to the contrary are presented.

Edit: Ekhehh... have I been reading too much Violent Acres or what? ;-)