I’m down here doing a little surfing before lunch and the kids are upstairs playing Operation. Buzz Lightyear style, that is.
Much as I’d like, I can’t quite tune out the conversation as they are playing. But the one that I pickup on in particular has to do with the fundamental component of the game: when the buzzer sounds, you’ve messed up.
Well, apparently, the boy has determined that because he can’t see or feel the probe touch the side, the machine must be wrong. So he gets to do it over again. The lass, unfortunately, doesn’t grasp the implications of the boy’s statement and says “OK.” Or maybe she does, but figures she’ll use it to her own advantage.
Regardless, I then keep here variations on the following sequence: buzzer sounds; followed by the boy saying “HUH?!?! I didn’t even touch it! Did you see me touch?”; followed by another attempt at removing a piece.
Initially, I figured that I’m down here, they’re up there and just leave it at that. Why should I stick my nose in it, especially since they aren’t exactly at each other’s throats. Besides, if I say something they’ll probably stop playing altogether.
But then my stricter side takes over. No, it says. What’s the point of playing the game if they aren’t going to adhere to the rules? There’s only 1 challenge to that game and it’s all based on honoring the buzzer. Besides, that game doesn’t “malfunction”, the boy does. If you don’t say something, what’s to stop him from deciding to ignore other rules don’t suit him?
So my stricter side won out. I called up to him “That game isn’t broken. It’s buzzing because you’re touching the side. It doesn’t make mistakes.”
“Well, sometimes it DOES. I can’t even see when I’ve touched the side.” he called back. More that a little defensively.
“No, it doesn’t mess up. If you start saying it can make a mistake, then you can use that excuse anytime you want. If it buzzes, you touched the side.” I called back.
He didn’t reply any further. A few minutes later, they stopped playing.
Way to go, hardass.