Last week, my son and daughter-in-law dropped the hammer of parental authority on their two daughters due to excessive computer usage.
In a calm and deliberate email, they informed Maddie and Sarah, ages 11 and eight, that they need to take a break from the virtual world and “explore life.”
For the rest of the summer, the girls are allowed to use their laptops only from 10-11 a.m., 1-3 p.m., and 8-10 p.m.
(I assume they chose email to deliver the message because the girls are on their laptops constantly and were sure to see it.)
“New Computer Policy — Effective Immediately” was the subject of the message. We grandparents were copied on the email, owing to the fact that all four of us live in town and will be called on to enforce the new rules.
In large part, the cause of all this drama is the computer game Minecraft, which the girls discovered some weeks ago. In Minecraft, you create virtual worlds using a variety of building blocks that, for unexplained reasons, look like Legos.
You can erect buildings, plant crops, raise livestock, dig mines, stockpile supplies and equipment, and trade goods with other players.
You also can enter game modes that introduce malevolent creatures, lava flows, and other mortal dangers. If a player gets snuffed out, no worries. You simply regenerate and start over.
Minecraft is clever and addictive, and Maddie and Sarah were promptly sucked in — so much so that their parents felt obliged to intervene.
A Minecraft virtual world, this one especially elaborate.
When the new computer usage rules were announced, the girls made no attempt to circumvent them. After all, they are responsible, sensible children, and they understand the folly of invoking the wrath of the parental units.
The only thing is, during the hours they are allowed to crank up their laptops and are on the clock, they play Minecraft with an even more feverish intensity.
The hammer was dropped at 9:45 a.m. on a Monday. When I arrived at the girls’ house for babysitting duty that day at 12:30 p.m., they were in their respective rooms upstairs.
Their laptops, I observed, were on the kitchen counter, charging.
I was there to take over from my ex, Deanna, who had the morning shift. She said the girls had been somewhat jolted by the new policy, but seemed to accept the inevitability of it.
Deanna and I sat down and chatted about grandparent things. The clock inched toward 1:00 p.m.
At precisely 1:00 p.m., Maddie and Sarah came bounding down the stairs. Both girls gave me a fleeting Hi, Rocky, snatched up their laptops, plopped down on the couch, and began Minecrafting. Deanna and I exchanged meaningful looks.
A few minutes later, Deanna announced that she was going home. The girls paused Minecraft to see her off, then resumed play.
The house was quiet except for their game chatter…
“Maddie, do you have any dirt and wood planks?”
“No.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I can’t spare any. Where are you? I don’t see you.”
“I’m at the portal. PLEASE let me buy some dirt!”
“Okay, I’ll trade you some dirt for some coal.”
“Maddie, look out! There’s a cave spider!”
“Cave spiders won’t hurt you, Sarah.”
“Oh, okay. Rocky, what time is it?”
“1:35.”
——————
“Maddie, I fed my pigs carrots, and they breeded and spawned babies.”
“Yeah, the rabbits and pigs eat carrots. The horses like apples best.”
“I want some horses — Maddie, look out! There’s a Creeper!”
“Stay away from him, Sarah! If he gets close, he’ll explode, and you’ll be dead!”
“Oh, no! Oh, no! Oh, no! — Maddie, he got me. I’m killed.”
“Sarah, I told you to stay away from him. Do you have a potion so you can regenerate?”
“Yeah. Hey, Rocky, what time is it?”
“2:15.”
——————
2:55 p.m. — Maddie suggests that they wrap things up with a quick round of Minecraft virtual hide-and-seek. She tells Sarah to hide first. She averts her eyes from the laptop screen as Sarah hides in the dark corner of a basement.
2:58 p.m. — Maddie finds Sarah. Panic sets in because time is running out. Sarah averts her eyes while Maddie digs a hole in the side of a hill, climbs in, and covers herself up. Sarah begins the search.
3:00 p.m. — The designated afternoon computer session has ended, but Sarah has not yet located Maddie. Benevolently, I grant them extra time.
3:03 p.m. — Sarah discovers where Maddie is hiding. They close their laptops. We turn on the TV and watch SpongeBob SquarePants.
Horses.
Pigs.
Creepers.
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Pavlov would be proud.
Yes, a brilliant case of conditioning by the creators of Minecraft. It will be interesting to see how things shake out re the time periods when school starts.