“Mommy, can I play on the iPad?” my daughter calls from the kitchen, where I’m sure her hand is hovering over the device, waiting for my assent.
It’s Saturday morning. My partner left early for a round of golf, and I’m an “okay” away from a blissful hour sequestered with my writing book and favorite pen. Heck, I might even have a chance to finish this story instead of letting it tumble around in my head, spitting out phrases while I’m cutting into the right lane to avoid the car in front of me.
My other option for her is TV, but I’d rather have her on the iPad because she’ll be either playing Minecraft or watching YouTube videos of other people playing Minecraft. She’ll build a world in “creative mode” with a swimming pool full of wool and probably a library. Her world will be blissfully threat-free until she switches over to “survival mode,” when the creepers, zombies, and pigs appear. “There are also spiders, Mommy,” she tells me, reading over my shoulder, “and pig men.”
To get ideas and inspiration she’ll watch YouTube videos of others playing Minecraft, like SkyDoesMinecraft, who recaps his quests as he saves villagers and cows. (I think the cows get saved; I’ll have to ask.) Sometimes Ava will watch Minecraft videos authored by people I assume are the spawn of drunken sailors who drop f-bombs and m-f bombs, amongst their “kill that…