A mum writes an imaginary letter to her sons about their obsession with Minecraft …
Dear Miles and Asher,
I need you to know something. I need you to know that I just can’t talk to you about this game. I don’t understand Minecraft at all and I have no desire to try. Sure, I want to be interested in what you’re saying to me, but I just can’t. Because you say things like, I built a chair! I saw a chicken! I got an egg, ha ha ha!!! and my eyes get that unfocused look because I’m staring past you and my brain has shut down. I can’t help it. I’m only human.
That’s why I say Uh huh with no feeling, over and over. I’m not listening at all. You probably can tell, because you’re smart. Whether or not you love this game, please know I still think you’re very smart. Lots of smart people do things that make no sense and then talk incessantly about those things.
That said, I’m strangely still glad you’re so passionate about this weird game because it gives you something to do between the hours of 1pm and 3pm while your sister naps and then I can do whatever I please.
Yes, one day when you read this you will learn that I allowed you TWO HOURS a day, in the holidays, to play this thing where you push on arrows and then click on bricks and build things and then push on the bricks and break them up RIGHT AFTER YOU BUILT THE THING and maybe this happens on a hill, I don’t know, the angle is weird.
My friend Kim said, “We put it on peaceful mode” and I was all, “THERE’S A PEACEFUL MODE?!” I had no idea, because I did not care enough to look up how to make Minecraft more peaceful. Is it bloody? Is it bad? I asked myself that but I could not bring myself to look at it for long enough to find out. So for a moment I had a pang of guilt and felt like less of a mother than Kim but then I just let it go, to be honest. I feel a bit tormented by this game and I don’t want to think about it anymore than you are already making me think of it.