Lennon decided she wanted to figure out how a Nintendo Wii works, and ultimately destroyed an entire town of innocents.
I'm speaking, of course, of Animal Crossing: The City. She started up the game when I was taking a nap or reading or something, and when the cat asked her if she wanted to build a new town, she said yes. And when the cat told her that it would destroy everything her mother had built up, caught, earned, beautified, put her heart and soul into, Lennon still said yes. I fully understand that Lennon can't read well, and therefore had no clue she was doing anything other than making the funny cat talk, but the betrayal still cut like a knife.
The worst part is the way that I reacted. Calling myself a baby would be too nice. Calling myself a selfish, uncaring, c-word-faced b-word with a heart of wet coal, also too nice. I seriously pouted, you guys. I POUTED because my little girl wanted to play a game like mommy, and accidentally FAKE demolished the FAKE town of FAKE animals. To be fair to myself, I could say I was PMSing, but I don't really deserve even that much.
I think it's funny that I reacted this way. It's out of character for me. Lennon once drew cave drawings on my white couch in something VERY permanent, and I swear up and down, all I did was laugh. It's still there, and I still laugh. I also wasn't the least bit worried about it when she painted the legs of our table, or when she scratched the TV screen with who knows what. And it really doesn't bother me when she breaks or loses something. Kids do that sort of thing. She gets told not to do it again, and then we move on with life.
So the fact that I cared about a video game (I almost called it a "stupid video game" but it's really not stupid at all, it's SO FUN, oh my gosh, I can't even begin to tell you...) is disconcerting. I'm already over it, but the fact that I cared enough to go to bed early that night bugs me.
Please tell me I'm not a monster of a mother, and that you've done something like this before too. Please.