Pokemon was the word this past holiday season. As a kid, I remember cycling slowly through Ghostbusters, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and eventually into video gaming as an adolescent. Through my adult eyes, it seems like you’re flying from monster trucks to Hot Wheels and now balancing between Legos and Pokemon, but especially Lego figures in the likeness of Pokemon.
Grandma Vicki got you (read: me) a high-difficulty Pikachu Pokemon Lego set for Christmas, and you and I spend a culmulative number of days building the set, which we still haven’t finished weeks later. The body is complete, but we haven’t started Pikachu’s head. We could be done by now if it weren’t for you receiving even more Lego sets, including more in the Pokemon category.
I am familiar with Pokemon because Zio Sergio came up with them at a kid, but I don’t quite “get it.” I definitely do not understand the game itself and can’t track with the universe and value of the cards, monetary or for the game itself.
Because I support any of your hobbies, I took you to a dedicated Pokemon store in downtown Tacoma called Metro Retro so you could spend some allowance (a new system we implemented last month where you and Eliza could earn up to $5 each weekly for chores and some personal hygiene). We spent a solid 45 minutes in the store as you paced, overwhelmed, between walls of high-value ($15-$500+) cards and action figures. We spent the most time scanning through boxes of cheaper cards ($0.50-$3) and you eventually decided on three V-Max cards you could afford. You left on a lottery-ticket winning high with cards in hand.
You’ve since been trading the cards with friends, to mixed results. The collective Dads observe and oversee the process to make sure no one cries or is disappointed, although no one of any age can decipher value other than if the card has some kind of hologram effect.
My role in this all is making sure you take care of the things you like and find valuable and have bought you some card books and cases to help keep things in good shape. The card book itself can keep you busy for hours and you reorganize the cards in categories neither you or I can explain.
Oh, and I’m also the designated Lego builder and rebuilder (in the case something goes wrong). You do your fair share but take breaks and delegate some of the harder steps to me. If you want to hang out like that, I’ll keep snapping the pieces into place.
Love, Dad