Picture by Pawel Kuczynski
I had a surreal (get it?) conversation with my son on our drive home last week. It went like this:
Me: How was school? (I’m not very original)
Youngest Offspring: Fine. (Teenagers are not original either)
Except me and my friends [sic] had to keep re-taking the tuckshop. Did you know there is a gym at Cobblewalk?
Me: Yes, but I can’t afford it.
L-Shaped Child: I’m a Mystic.
Me: I am glad you are growing spiritually, my boy.
Techno Spawn: Mom, please will you drive less than 20km/h or else they’ll think I’m cheating.
Needless to say Mom’s own little pocket monster was not too impressed with his parent. Sigh. Goes with the territory, I suppose, along with having to remind school children that there are no squirtles on the grass at Meridian Pinehurst.
This craze (and I use that word deliberately) has certainly had a galvanising effect on global anti-social sedentary adolescents. It is entertaining to sit at my desk in my bedroom which overlooks our street, and see youngsters tearing down the pavements in search of close encounters of the virtual kind. However, I have warned my younger boys of the dangers of the ‘lures’ being for humans – and that they may be the prey so they should be alert, but that they should also be aware of the danger of roaming around, heads down with smart phones in their hands – again, they are targets for thieves. I am also concerned that in their desperation to capture that elusive Pokémon that they blindly traverse busy roads and get hurt or cause an accident.
As an English teacher, I am aware that the lines between real and imaginary have become even more blurred and have resigned myself to the fact that my son may NEVER use the word ‘literally’ correctly.
Just off to ensure Blanche is washing the dishes…