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 wasnโ€™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 couldnโ€™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 โ€œSee, moms can be coolโ€ and the famous โ€œGirls can play boy games, too.โ€ 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, weโ€™ve had two more kids and the game has come and gone. To this day, my son talks about my โ€œbeastnessโ€ 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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