Cowtown

I have a sad confession to offer up. I have an addiction. A very pathetic addiction.

I'm addicted to a child's game. Brendan got a new toy for his birthday called a Webkin. They're stuffed animals and there's a website where you register your adoption of your stuffed pet and it creates a virtual pet for you, as well. Naturally, you have to then do things to keep your pet alive. You have to visit it, feed it, buy it things, take it to the doctor. To paraphrase Harry Dean Stanton in Fire Walk with Me, it's just more crap I've got to do. But fun. Brendan enjoys holding his stuffed frog, who Scott named Jumbo, while we visit the virtual Jumbo online. It's cute. However, the way one acquires virtual money to buy virtual food and gifts for one's webkin is to play video games. Kid games. So, once both boys are in bed, I break out the laptop and start trying to earn Jumbo the big bucks. I am addicted to one specific game, though. It's called Cash Cow. And for some reason, I find it very relaxing. But once I start playing, I have a very hard time stopping. Thankfully, the Webkins site gets shut down every night at midnight, so I'm forced to stop.

Of course, that is if I've gotten to play. The real problem is that when I'm not playing, I'm thinking about playing. I just don't get to play all that much.

C'est la vie.