At dinner tonight my wife and I watched a family of four at a nearby table.
Two daughters — one about eight, the other about thirteen. The eight year old engaged in the experience. Leaning toward her parents, she participated in the conversation, both contributing and listening. The other daughter’s demeanor was completely different. She half slumped in the chair. Her eyes were half closed, her attention was firmly fixed on her telephone, and she was playing one of the games she had downloaded. She could have been anywhere.
Over the years I have heard an increasing amount of helpless nonsense from parents about what they cannot expect of their children. And in response to most of the pleas I frequently ask, “Who’s the adult?”
Set rules about when and where video games can be played.
Start early — the day they get one.
Prohibit their use in social settings — on pain of confiscation.
And follow through.
In other words, parent like an adult.