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Monday, January 8, 2024

 

Only Make Believe

“I can’t believe they won’t let me move my stable.” I huffed at the unfairness of video game logic.

My son, voice dripping irritably with common sense and reason, “So you’re upset because your imaginary horses can’t get to your imaginary barn?”

“It’s on an island, so there’s not much space. The bride and groom don’t have room to get out.”

“Right.”

My son doesn’t understand the urgency. I recently installed a game on my tablet that runs on hidden pictures, and I have to buy items with game currency to fuel the game to produce more hidden picture scenes. It’s all very technical.

“I need to organize my decorations before my observatory finishes renovating or the stable won’t fit.”

He squinted over my shoulder at the cartoon island.

“It says you have 11 hours and 29 minutes to go. I could clean my room in that much time.”

“Let’s see it.”

“I thought we were still talking make believe.”

“I have to hurry. I have two wedding carriages and they shouldn’t be near each other.”

“I don’t even want to know why.”

“They should each have their own wedding experience.”

 “Are there any imaginary people inside the imaginary wedding carriages?”

“No.”

“And what is that?” he pointed to a sandy pit.

“That’s a Zen garden. People go there for peace and contentment.”

“It looks like a litter box.”

“It doesn’t fit anywhere. Last night I dreamed the wedding carriage got stuck in it.”

“You’re having nightmares about your peace garden? Who designed this game, Stephen King?”

“They said the lighthouse is haunted.”

“Who said? Your imaginary people?”

“No, that wouldn’t make sense. The lighthouse keeper said it.”

“There’s a lot of empty buildings and the keeper of a haunted lighthouse? Where is Scooby Doo and Shaggy? In the carnival tent?”

“You talk big for somebody who plays a game full of chickens.”

“Those chickens are saving the world.”

“If I see one chicken on my island, we’re having it for dinner.”

“Let me see your tablet.”

He performed some magical flourishes over the surface of my tablet and handed it back.

“Wedding crisis averted.”

“Where is my carriage and flower-strewn path?”

“On your cargo ship.”

“I have a cargo ship?”

“Yep. They’re going to have their unique wedding experience on board.”

“But where will they go on their honeymoon?”

“Well I don’t want to give you ideas, but. . . “

“Yes?”

“Your haunted lighthouse and nightmare litter box make a package Scooby would die for.”