May I introduce Mr. iPad Mini. He is the favorite toy of a certain fourteen year old who is very close to me, but who shall remain nameless, even though he goes by an alias anyway. Mr. iPad Mini allows Nameless Teenager to play his favorite game, shown above. (Nameless Teenager has Irish roots.)
The game allows NT to ignore his mother when she says, "Time for dinner."
"Just a minute," he says.
His mother says, "I need your help in the garden."
"As soon as I help the Druid attain the next level," he says.
His mother says, "Your laundry is done. Put it away now."
"I just need thirteen minutes for my elixir to finish," he says.
Yesterday, Mr. iPad Mini went on a vacation that didn't include Nameless Teenager.
In fact, all electronic devices in our home went on hiatus.
Poor Nameless Teenager.
What was he to do?
Pick up a book?
No, without his BFF, NT resorted to digging out a long-lost childhood friend.
Mr. Moon Sand
I cracked open NT's bedroom door to see if he had somehow found a way to subvert the lesson he was supposed to be learning. Instead, he was lying on the floor navigating Mr. Tonka Mini through the sand, and making vehicular noises.
While it's not quite a book, moon sand was an acceptable alternative to whining, "How many hours until I can have my iPad back?"
And he said, "Today is the most boring day of my life" only nineteen times.