TheGamer Originals
1,000 Planets, 500 Hours, And Everything Else That Turns Me Off As A Gaming Parent
I’ve tried and failed on a number of occasions to pinpoint exactly when I started playing video games. Someone, presumably my parents, brought home a Mega Drive when I was about three or four. Almost three decades later, I have Sonic tattoos all the way up my arm and I’m trying to figure out when exactly is a good time to introduce games to my own son. He’s two, almost three, and has just started to show an interest. It started with Kirby and The Forgotten Land and has evolved into him holding a controller while I play Mario Kart, Rocket League, and Lego Star Wars. You know, the trick you’d play on your younger siblings when they wanted to play but they weren’t quite old enough to know what they were doing.
