I Cheated Playing Battleship

I was playing Battleship with Tristan (10) and I cheated.

The thing is, if I had to pick between slamming my hand in a car door and playing Battleship, or any board game for that matter, I’d take the car door. It would be less painful. But he wanted to play really bad, and I didn’t have much of an excuse, so we played.

I know I’m supposed to savor every moment with my children, and that’s wonderfully sweet and all, but sometimes they like boring crap. Sometimes they ask me to watch something funny on YouTube, and the second they do, I know that it won’t be funny. It will, in fact, be the stupidest thing I’ve ever witnessed because my children have no idea what funny is.

You want to know what dedication and love really looks like? I’ll tell you, it looks like faking interest in a magic egg video. It looks like pretending to care about some clip of a guy playing Minecraft. It looks like enduring ALL the renditions of the Finger Family Song. It looks like driving your kid every weekend to practice a sport you couldn’t care less about. It looks like reading a poorly written summary of the movie Frozen every night before bed because your daughter LOVES Queen Elsa.

And sometimes, it looks like playing Battleship with your son even though you can’t stand it.

So yeah, I cheated. Every time he called out a location, I moved a ship so he’d have a direct hit. I let him win, and the game lasted 30 minutes instead of 30 hours like the last time we played. He had a great time, while I endured. When he won, he laughed at me. Then he told EVERYONE that he beat Dad as though it were some great accomplishment. Like I was the Battleship master of the world, and he was now claiming the crown.

I showed him that although I hated something, I was willing to do it with him because I loved him. And in so many ways, that really is the definition of parenting.

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