Metagame

Groggy-eyed and pie-shaped, I blunder into the kitchen. I have eyes only for the blinking red light on the coffee machine. I have not showered. I have not dressed. I am a lumbering arabica-bean detector. By the time I turn around from the counter, the single sip of coffee has returned me to humanity, and I see my daughter sitting at the kitchen table. Or rather, I see who I assume is my daughter -- her head is completely concealed by a book as she absentmindedly slurps Puffins-and-milk.

The book is the Dungeons & Dragons Players Handbook.

It was perhaps the proudest moment of my life as a parent.

My adult life has been a process of delayed gratification. Once upon a time, I thought I'd retire and get caught up on a life of sloth and gluttony. But as it's become clearer and clearer that I will work until I'm dead, I've been trying to figure out how to maximize my escapism, rather than planning a second lifetime of leisure. My life has become a min-maxing exercise in delayed gratification.

My daughter, on the other hand, has seemingly endless resources with which to plumb the depths of the race-class array.

"I'm totally playing a Half-Elven Wizard," she declares.

"Really? Why?" I ask. I've always considered half-elves to be a bit of a pansy choice.

"Half-elves are great. Just ask Elrond."

The logic is irrefutable.

Several days pass. A random trip through Barnes & Noble leaves me with a copy of the Players Handbook 2, which I can now justify as a "gift." She disappeared to her bedroom with it, ignoring bedtime rituals -- no kisses on the hands, no tender bedside moments. Just a hurried 'I love you daddy' and a race for the reading lamp.

Morning. Father, stumbling towards coffee. Daughter, buried in book and cereal. "I changed my mind Daddy," she informs me, with a voice that implies she's renegotiated the Kyoto protocol while I was inconsiderately sleeping.

"About what sweetheart?"

"Gnome Bard. I'm totally playing a Gnome Bard."

"Really? Why?" I ask. I've always considered Gnomes to be a bit of a practical-joke race, and Bards to be be one of those almost-but-not-quite inventions of D&D.

"Well, gnomes are cool -- they can just sort of disappear out from underfoot. And bards can sing people to death."

"Really?" I haven't read the PHB2. I walk behind her and read over her shoulder. It turns out a first level bard in D&D fourth edition can in fact sing someone to death.

"Huh. Cool."

For the next thirty minutes we sit side by side, digging into the important stuff: Law vs. Chaos, the questionable parentage of the Half-Orc, the unspeakable importance of the ten-foot pole. I regale her with the death of my first character at the hands of a hill giant. I sing the praises of the Tomb of Horrors. She's startled to learn that the game has changed at all since I was 11, and seems both saddened that she's not walking directly in my footsteps, and excited that she's on the cutting edge.

Someday soon, we will sit across the long, felt-covered table in the basement. She doesn't know it yet, but the Lich who sits on the onyx throne will come out of hiding from the top shelf in the back corner of my office again. Her first level gnome bard will be no match, but the Lich will have better things to do. He will utter an epithet and depart in a puff of smoke, leaving minions to deal with the minor threat. Perhaps he will torment her for years to come. Or maybe the next day, my little gnome will discover boys or rock-climbing or astronomy or Britney Spears, and I will have to discover if the acquisition of lipstick will truly bar her from re-entering our own, private Narnia.

It won't matter.

Because it's the metagame that's the important part. It's the conversations about playing, about gnomes and bards, about the games of the past, and about the games we hope to play.

"Daddy, can we play right now?" she asks. I look at the clock. 8:05.

"Sorry sweetheart, you have to go to school." She looks despondent. Her eyes drop to the equipment list, where she's been considering the merits of ranged weapons.

"That's ok," she says. She gets up from the table, and puts the book in her school bag. "I can start working on her background in class."

Prodigy.

Comments

My mom and I quested together through some D&D tales. We're bad influences on each other and games usually devolved into spoil-sport contests. But it was always a lot of fun.

FYI: Never kill your mom's wizard.

We also really enjoyed playing Hero Quest. Ah... the fits we used to pitch. Good times.

IMAGE(http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y209/Magnusnews/HeroQuest.jpg)

Rabbit wrote:

I've always considered Gnomes to be a bit of a practical-joke race, and Bards to be be one of those almost-but-not-quite inventions of D&D.

Quintin_Stone wrote:

Letting your child play a gnome is akin to child abuse! Though to be fair, I haven't read the PHB2 and I hear they've change the basic concept of the gnome race.

Still... gnomes! GRRR.

Rabbit and Quentin, you are now both dead to me.
Luckily Rabbit has a smart child so his apparently bad decision genes were not passed on.

Mister Magnus wrote:

My mom and I quested together through some D&D tales. We're bad influences on each other and games usually devolved into spoil-sport contests. But it was always a lot of fun.

FYI: Never kill your mom's wizard.

We also really enjoyed playing Hero Quest. Ah... the fits we used to pitch. Good times.

IMAGE(http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y209/Magnusnews/HeroQuest.jpg)

I still have that game, but had forgotten all about it!

Mister Magnus wrote:

My mom and I quested together through some D&D tales. We're bad influences on each other and games usually devolved into spoil-sport contests. But it was always a lot of fun.

FYI: Never kill your mom's wizard.

We also really enjoyed playing Hero Quest. Ah... the fits we used to pitch. Good times.

IMAGE(http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y209/Magnusnews/HeroQuest.jpg)

So awesome! I loved the hell out of that game. My brother ended up using it as miniatures for a short adventure he ran me through. I remember he kind of rolled his eyes at the standard player character info cards and immediately tried to teach me about THAC0.

I actually have a copy of advanced heroquest in the basement. I should dig it up.

rabbit wrote:

I actually have a copy of advanced heroquest in the basement. I should dig it up.

I never played HeroQuest, but I tried to con my parents into playing Warhammer Quest with me once. They didn't go for it, alas.

Oh man, HeroQuest. As a girl, I used to play with my older stepbrothers. When I finally moved out of our parents' house, I inherited the old beat-up copy, and to my surprise, I found chicken scratch notes about vicious Ferengis and "eye lasers coming out of the troll's mouth" scribbled in the quest guide. We apparently had some wacky times.

I am proud FOR you and somewhat jealous. My 10.9 yr old daughter has shown all the signs of creativity, acting, and drama over the years but she is falling into the abyss of High School Musical and the like. I blame my ex-wife.

I will rescue my daughter from the Disney clones someday and get her back on track. I promise the world!

Thanks for sharing, Rabbit.

I had Hero Quest. My brother stepped on all the pieces, so I beat him up.

I had a different family than Rabbit's.

I was cleaning out some of my old stuff from my parents house upon request a few years ago. I wasn't able to throw away my Hero Quest box, including the 1 expansion I had for it. Summer nights sleeping out under the stars playing HeroQuest to the sounds of the coyotes howling.

But Rabbit, really, you are pushing the envelope allowing you child to do that. It's going to warp and twist her mind and turn her into a maniac. I recommend removing all traces of Puffins cereal from you home and pretending like it never existed.

I just love reading these articles.

I just feel so relaxed and calm when Rabbit writes... Maybe I should read it as a way of heading off to sleep.

Fantastic =D

rabbit wrote:

"I'm totally playing a Half-Elven Wizard," she declares.

"Really? Why?" I ask. I've always considered half-elves to be a bit of a pansy choice.

"Half-elves are great. Just ask Elrond."

I'm amazed that she knows that. I know Elrond's heritage is nowhere in the movies, and I don't think it's in anywhere in the story in the novels. You have to go to the appendices for that. Or read The Silmarillion.

Demiurge wrote:
Troy Goodfellow wrote:

God, not a bard.

Sweet story, rabbit. It makes me want to have children of my own so I can corrupt them with Agricola.

How does one corrupt anyone with Agricola? That's about the most wholesome board game since Candyland. Agricola needs some sexing up. Maybe some explosions.

How's your subsistence farming going now that I've planted nukes in your field!? Muahaha!

Don't forget that the secret to making Agricola interesting is to change the environment to a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

My daughter has shown a keen interest in chewing on my D&D books. Hopefully the number of times i have had to tell her that "daddies books are not for chewing" will not discourage her later. I can imagine it would be an incredible moment if in 10 years or so I found her head buried in one of them.

Rabbit, you're very lucky that your daughter does something cool and heartwarming roughly once a week. But now she doesn't do the kisses on the hands? That was so sweet! I hope that's only temporary.

McChuck wrote:

I'm amazed that she knows that. I know Elrond's heritage is nowhere in the movies, and I don't think it's in anywhere in the story in the novels. You have to go to the appendices for that. Or read The Silmarillion.

She's not allowed to see the movies until we've finished the books.

Elrond is named "HalfElven" as early as the Hobbit, I believe, and she honed in on the name. She's pretty obsessed with the core plot of the LOTR, which is, to me, the departure of the elves and the changing of the age. She wept for hours when the fellowship left Lorien, crying out for Bilbo. After all, if ALL the elves go west, who will take care of a retiring hobbit in the fire-hall of Rivendell?

Anyway, we'd talked plenty about the lineage of elves and Numenor, and we haven't even stated Two Towers. I'd indoctrinated her with my own belief about Elrond -- that he was in some way more grounded into the soul of Middle Earth than the other communities of elves, because he had more skin in the game.

Oh to have been born into a Gaming household! What a supportive network she has for the essentials of life Wicked write up..

Nice story Rabbit. I remember you had written some articles about your experiences DMing your daughter and her friends awhile back. Is that still going on? Does she have peer support for her current fascination with D&D, or is this solely her own thing at the moment. Somewhere down the line, she's gonna hear something along the lines that D&D is uncool or for geeks. Hopefully she'll be confident enough in herself to choose to continue playing (if she wants to).

adam.greenbrier wrote:
JessicaRabbit wrote:

Beyond that, I think it is so important for kids and their parents to find things to do together - especially as kids start entering the pre-teen and teen years - that I can't be anything but happy our daughter is excited about D&D.

One of my childhood regrets is that my parents and I didn't find many things that we could do together. I'm really happy that your daughter has found something that helps her to connect with you and Rabbit, and I hope that you keep finding things like that. It's amazing how much a little common ground can do for a relationship.

When I was around 11 or 12, my mother says she was given some of the best advice she'd ever received about raising kids -- to find something new she and I could do together. We chose stain-glass making - yes, there are craft geeks too. We didn't take more than the 1 session of classes, but those 10 weeks may have saved us from killing each other when I went through the classic teenage stages. In those classes we spent concentrated time learning and creating and having fun together. It gave us a relationship beyond the everyday parent/child interactions. Neither of us have any interest in the craft now, but we talk about where we were when John Lennon died (in the car on the way to class - and yes, I'm old like rabbit), and have inside jokes that date back to those classes.

It's these types of things I'm hoping rabbit and our daughter talk about years after the D&D books are gathering dust in her room.

JessicaRabbit wrote:

It's these types of things I'm hoping rabbit and our daughter talk about years after the D&D books are gathering dust in her room.

Gathering dust? GATHERING DUST??

rabbit wrote:
JessicaRabbit wrote:

It's these types of things I'm hoping rabbit and our daughter talk about years after the D&D books are gathering dust in her room.

Gathering dust? GATHERING DUST??

Sure. I mean, D&D can't stay in 4th ed. forever.

wordsmythe wrote:
rabbit wrote:
JessicaRabbit wrote:

It's these types of things I'm hoping rabbit and our daughter talk about years after the D&D books are gathering dust in her room.

Gathering dust? GATHERING DUST??

Sure. I mean, D&D can't stay in 4th ed. forever.

In fact, it'll probably be 5th ed. in 3...2...

JessicaRabbit wrote:

When I was around 11 or 12, my mother says she was given some of the best advice she'd ever received about raising kids -- to find something new she and I could do together.

That's fantastic advice. My first little one is due any day now, and I'm nervous about repeating many of the mistakes that my own parents made. In particular, my father was only willing to interact with me on his terms; I could spend time with him while he went about doing his hobbies, but he wasn't interested in venturing into my hobbies. A new activity to do together that neither one of us had experience with would have cut that particular Gordian Knot.

Thanks for the advice, Jessica.

Great writeup. I can't wait for my son (currently 9 months old) to hit an age where he's able to play games with his father, although I may be well into my mid Forties before that happens.

Until then, I'll just have to make do with running D&D for my friends, who, oddly and often enough, behave very much like my 9 month old.

Johnvanjim wrote:

I'll just have to make do with running D&D for my friends, who, oddly and often enough, behave very much like my 9 month old.

Holy crap man, your campaign rocks.

Just be careful Rabbit - or you will have to have "that talk" with her when you discover the Book of Vile Darkness secreted away in her room.

Role playing always seemed a perfect way to actually impart some excellent life lessons without being too preachy. Plus, anything that pulls kids out of the basilisk-esq gaze of a computer or tv screen while making them use their brain these days is wonderful. (gasp!)

Most encounters I have with stories of kids or actual face-to-face time with them makes me very nervous about the prospect of having my own.

It's really good to get reminders like this that it can be fantastically awesome, too. Thanks.

rabbit wrote:
Johnvanjim wrote:

I'll just have to make do with running D&D for my friends, who, oddly and often enough, behave very much like my 9 month old.

Holy crap man, your campaign rocks.

Wow, your campaign website is pretty awesome Johnvanjim. Makes me want to get on the ball with my own campaign :).

LightBender wrote:

Just be careful Rabbit - or you will have to have "that talk" with her when you discover the Book of Vile Darkness secreted away in her room.

Role playing always seemed a perfect way to actually impart some excellent life lessons without being too preachy. Plus, anything that pulls kids out of the basilisk-esq gaze of a computer or tv screen while making them use their brain these days is wonderful. (gasp!)

Yeah, I hate computers. I would never use them if they weren't such a conduit to so much awesome stuff.

I mean, if not for computers, I wouldn't be able to judge the grammar of front page articles or coffee grinders!

wordsmythe wrote:
LightBender wrote:

Just be careful Rabbit - or you will have to have "that talk" with her when you discover the Book of Vile Darkness secreted away in her room.

Role playing always seemed a perfect way to actually impart some excellent life lessons without being too preachy. Plus, anything that pulls kids out of the basilisk-esq gaze of a computer or tv screen while making them use their brain these days is wonderful. (gasp!)

Yeah, I hate computers. I would never use them if they weren't such a conduit to so much awesome stuff.

I mean, if not for computers, I wouldn't be able to judge the grammar of front page articles or coffee grinders!

Aren't you responsible for the grammar of the front page articles?