Enjoying Games With Your Kids Isn’t Always Easy.

Mario Party Jamboree is a joyful, family orientated game, that promotes competition throughout the household via charming, vivid and all so wholesome interactive experience. You can’t really go wrong. Apologies, what I meant to say is that it provokes the malicious griping of an 8 year old, that can only satisfy their lust for fun through victory. As competitive as I can be, there are worrying signs that my daughter may be exhibiting similar antagonistic moods that have plagued some of my formative gaming experiences. Controllers heaved at walls in frustration. Shattering into shards of sharp plastic, that you never fully clean up until you inadvertently step on a piece. Discs launched out of windows like improvised frisbees simply because a game frustrated you to the point of such reckless idiocy. So as someone that has spent years curtailing these irrational outbursts, it is up to me to placate and diminish this seemingly inherited erratic behavior.

Certainly frustration seems to be the catalyst for any aggressive retaliation. Now I’m not suggesting that she is hurling the controller around the room or jumping on her mothers face like some enraged baboon, but there is an incessant whining that occurs as a result of some unscrupulous action, perpetrated by the computer controlled character. It could be pilfering some coins, or worse still, the solitary star she has gathered on her trip around the board. Perhaps she considers these acts of sabotage as cheating rather than a legitimate mechanic. Which it kind of is, when you consider that it punishes success in a game that relies heavily on chance. Of course this doesn’t excuse her actions, particularly the crying. It’s a reaction inherent in any child, the association that winning equates to fun. And it’s a mindset difficult to nullify, especially when the game appears to be rigged. So I have to demonstrate that losing is as much a part of the fun as winning is.

Trust me, I have had significant experience when it comes to losing, that I feel I can impart some asinine wisdom for her to ignore. All I can really do is demonstrate through my own actiins that losing isn’t the end of the world. Let out an exacerbated sigh when she defeats me in a mini game. Tickle her and insinuate that she cheated. Encourage her during these moments of despair and persevere in the sentiment that it’s okay. We can try again. But emphasize that if she isn’t having fun, then there really isn’t any point in carrying on in the first place. But if she is anything like me, with fuse shorter than an ants nutsack, rooted in her father’s own belligerent temperament, then I might be fighting a losing battle. I hope not, as playing computer games provides a genuine connection between us that combines my love for her, with my passion for gaming. Something I just don’t get to enjoy as much anymore. And harkens back to a time that I played games with my own father.