Time to Play: Girls Can Play Boys Games, Too!

There came a time in my life when I realized that as a mom of boys, I had to learn how to act, think and play like a boy. My husband has sort of taken on the reins in this department, and for a while, I was totally fine with that decision. With typical rough-and-tough playtime becoming a thing of the past, we soon found ourselves in the world of video games. I have always been a fan of video games and we’ve had our fair share of gaming platforms, but what happened between my son and I many moons ago will forever stay in our hearts. Let me take you back nine years to the era of the Nintendo GameCube.

I am the main decision maker when it comes to buying games. So, to change things up a bit, I bought a game that, even though it was rather old, looked easy to play and wasn’t too violent: Conflict: Desert Storm II: Back to Baghdad. My son and my husband started to play, and within minutes I could tell that my tween was having a hard time understanding the game, so I stepped in and started to play.

We quickly became obsessed with the game, but what happened next made me a legend in the eyes of my son. I was soon playing by myself and finishing levels with precise gaming techniques that both my husband and my son couldn’t achieve. There were several levels that I mastered, such as eliminating the enemy without sounding a single alarm and/or killing off every single opponent without having fired a single shot. I was good. My son and I spent many hours with this game. I kept blurting out facts like “See, moms can be cool” and the famous “Girls can play boy games, too.” I even used my teaching him how to accomplish missions as bribes for cleaning his room and finishing homework. There was even a conversation I overheard with my son and his friends about how I play Desert Storm and that I could beat any one of them.

Since then, we’ve had two more kids and the game has come and gone. To this day, my son talks about my “beastness” when playing that boy game. My 7-year-old son hears with attentiveness, and by the look of his eyes, the hint of doubt peers through. My now 14-year-old uses this special memory to boast about me. Sure it has nothing to do with my cooking or my ability to nurture them as a loving mother but as a cool mom who knew about C4s, tanks and surface-to-air missiles.

Think and play like a boy. Oh yeah!

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