Yesterday, while Anne took Ryan to the airport, Nolan and I found ourselves in the living room. He sat at the desk and played Warcraft, and I sat on the couch, bored with football and contemplating some Xbox.
“Hey,” I said, “let’s play frisbee.”
“Mmmhhhuuhhh,” he said, clicking the mouse and doing whatever it is you do when you play Warcraft.
“Hey,” I said, again, “Nolan!”
He turned around, still clicking his mouse. “What?”
“I have a hankerin’ to play frisbee. Let’s go outside and play.”
“A ‘hankerin”?”
“Ah shore dew. Yeehaw!”
He shook his head. “You are so weird.”
Weird has become Nolan’s go-to word for just about everything recently. He doesn’t say it unkindly, but it’s a stand-in for lame, or other expressions of mild disapproval. If I’m too friendly with someone while we’re at the store, it’s weird. When we watched my episode of Criminal Minds together, it was weird to see me being Floyd. When I complimented a little kid on his awesome Darth Vader costume, and when I told a mom that dressing her little kids up as Popeye and Olive Oyl was adorable, it was weird.
“Yeah,” I said. “You’ve mentioned that.”
We looked at each other. I sensed an opening.
“Come on, Nolan, we can sit here and have our backs to each other, or we can do something fun together.”
I didn’t say it out loud, but I thought to myself, I’m not going to be an old man and wish that I’d played more video games …
“Augh!” he said, with mock irritation. “Why do you have to make so much sense!?”
“Because I’m weird.” I said.
He gave me a look. I’m not quite sure, but I think it was the I-see-what-you-did-there look. He turned around, typed something into the chat box, laughed, and shut the game down.
“People are so stupid,” he said. “I’m 8 and 1 in this match, but when I stop to talk to you and get killed, some guy on my team tells me that I’m a dipshit. And that guy was 1 and 6.” He shook his head. “This is why I only like to play with my friends.”
“That’s what I’m talking about when I say ‘don’t be a dick,'” I said. “That guy would never talk to you like that if you were face to face.”
“Meh, whatever. I don’t care.” He said. I obviously cared about it more than he did, both as a gamer and as a dad.
I walked to the closet in the entryway, and discovered that our frisbee wasn’t there.
“Oh, it’s still in the trunk of your car,” he said.
“Augh!” I said. “Let’s go get a new one.”
“Don’t you just want to wait until mom gets home?”
“It’ll be dark by then, and I really want to play with you.” It had become, as we say, a thing.
I grabbed Anne’s car keys, and a few minutes later, we were in Target. I yanked a bunch of 175 gram frisbees off the rack, trying to get at a particular one near the back.
“Are you getting seven frisbees?” Nolan said.
“Nope, I’m getting this one.” I handed it to him. “It glows in the dark, so we can squeeze a few more minutes out of the dusk.”
He barely nodded, a generous expression of approval.
When we got home, we played in the street, long after the sun had turned the sky above us purple and its rays barely lingered, pink and gold, on the bottoms of clouds in the West. We stopped only when our depth perception couldn’t pick out the softly glowing green disc with much accuracy, and the stars were starting to come out.
I woke up this morning with searing pain in my left arm and shoulder. It was joined by some pain in my right hip, and even though I’m pretty damn achey today, it’s worth it. I’m not going to be an old man and wish that I’d played less frisbee with my son.
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You get “too friendly” with strangers at the supermarket? That is kind of weird.
They are badges of honor… wear the aches and pains well 🙂
This is a beautiful moment. I dug it. Thanks for sharing.
I don’t have kids. I don’t LIKE kids. And this still made me tear up, damn you.
That’s awesome, and inspiring. I love those precious moments of 20/20 vision, which usually only come to us in retrospect. Kudos!
Glow in the dark frisbees FTW. I used to have one when I was a kid. Wonder whatever happened to it?
Nice writing, Wil.
Makes me want to run out and play frisbee… but alas the husband is away and the cats don’t have opposable thumbs. It IS time well spent, though.
Incidentally, though, I must agree that it would be really weird to see my dad – or anyone I know – play a serial killer on television.
Aw, I love your stories, Wil. Thanks : )
How, pray tell, does one become sore playing frisbee of all things?
Did the “round disc of death” attack you in some manner?
You, sir, clearly need to get out more!
(But it’s great that you played with your kids!!)
That’s a great story…and you aren’t old. *I* am old. But I’d still play frisbee. Maybe I can catch my son at a lull in Guitar Hero…
DNW
That’s pretty cool, on both your parts.
So Wil–do you deny that the OTHER reason that you got the glowy disk is that at least once, you pretended that it was a TRON disk? 😀
That is really, really awesome.
@Craig Steffen: I held it over my head in both hands with my arms outstretched more than once.
sniffle … flippin awesome post maaaaaan. fyi: “weird” is the new “cool”.
words to live by…
Bill Teeple
San Jose, CA
I think that the only thing my step-dad wanted to do with me when I was that age was watch Star Trek.
I’m not complaining.
My Dad did that when I was a kid, made me go out in the driveway and play basketball with him. Just like he used to make me sit and watch Star Trek TNG with him as well…
arg. Why do Dad’s always have to be RIGHT?
I don’t have kids yet, stories like this one make me excited for the day it happens.
Awesome writing and parenting Mr. Wheaton…Well played indeed 😉
I gotta hand it to you dude. You nailed the feeling on the head. There are times when I just look at my son and my heart feels like it is going to burst. It can’t contain all the love. You nailed that feeling.
awesome.
/heart grew 3 times/
just awesome.
@Wil:
I held it over my head in both hands with my arms outstretched more than once.
😀 Awesome.
There’s a bit in the “making of” on the TRON 20th-anniversary edition where Bruce Boxlighner talks about the director giving him smack one day about him not practicing his frisbee skills enough (to get him wound up).
So he and the director spent lunch break and set up shot where the director fired the disk down from a scaffold straight at Bruce’s face, and he ducked and caught the disk behind his head. Bruce was very proud of being able to do it; he said that shot made it into the movie as one of the shots where Tron catches his disk.
Well stated Wheaton.
Go Bama.
I NEVER turn down a request for a little ball-tossing, bike riding, or even board gaming with my kids. Nice story Wil.
That’s awesome!
Every memory of my mom she’s either watching tv/reading or generally in her own little world. Now my dad bitches I never call her & I’m like, why i never talked to her when I lived at home, why should I try when I’m almost 30?
I so won’t do that ot my kids.
Now, THAT is adorable.
“I’m not going to be an old man and wish that I’d played less frisbee with my son.”
Words to live by!
Thanks, Wil.
I wish my parents had been more like you. It might have made me want to be a parent myself.
I have to mention, though, that every time you talk about going to Target, I cringe. Is there no local and/or socially conscious company where you can buy your fun stuff? I’m lucky cause I’m in NYC and have a million options. I’m hoping you have some too! (There’s a decent article about Target at Alternet http://www.alternet.org/workplace/35610/ )
Great story, Wil! Thanks for sharing.
I wish I had done more with my Dad, but I wasn’t wise enough to stop playing with my Commodore 64 and start doing things with him. I just hope that I can impart this wisdom to my two children and that one day when Mom’s not home they will want to play a game of frisbee with me, as weird as that may be.
When I was a kid living in France, my dad once returned from Daytona Beach, Florida, with the grandest Frisbee of them all!
It was large and black, with golden laurels etched onto its top surface. There was an official-looking gold sticker in the center that proclaimed this Frisbee as being approved by the World Frisbee Federation, or some other awesomely official-sounding organization.
That Frisbee was my treasured possession for the next 10 years!
And it was indeed the greatest Frisbee of them all.
It came with me when I moved to the US, the year “TRON” came out in theaters.
That’s when I knew I was home! 😀
That was time well-spent, sir.
When I was a kid living in France, my dad once returned from Daytona Beach, Florida, with the grandest Frisbee of them all!
It was large and black, with golden laurels etched onto its top surface. There was an official-looking gold sticker in the center that proclaimed this Frisbee as being approved by the World Frisbee Federation, or some other awesomely official-sounding organization.
That Frisbee was my treasured possession for the next 10 years!
And it was indeed the greatest Frisbee of them all.
It came with me when I moved to the US, the year “TRON” came out in theaters.
That’s when I knew I was home! 😀
That was time well-spent, sir.
Thanks Typepad, you idiotic piece of crap.
Your second-to-last paragraph made me think of “Screenwriter’s Blues” by Soul Coughing:
The radioman says it is 5 am and the sun has charred the other side of the world and come back to us and painted the smoke over our heads an imperial violet.
And then, a few minutes later, my iTunes (which is perpetually on random play) popped up with that exact song…
Stop messing with my head!
Yeah, but dah-yam, it’s usually a good hurt. I’d rather hurt and get some good memories out of something than spend the rest of my life justifying to myself why I couldn’t.
we’re having a scavenger hunt inside our house tonight since it’s rainy here. My 10-yr-old thought it would be fun, so we’re giving it a go.
No one should ever be too busy to play with their kids. Hopefully, the pay-back is that the kids won’t be too busy to play with you!
You’re a good dad, Charlie Brown, erm… Wil Wheaton.
Beautiful writing, Wil. It touched me deeply and brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for that 🙂
Kudos to you. I find it really great that you spend time with your sons. The world would be a better place if there were more dads like you.
Awesome.
Why is it that every time I read your blog I find myself (mostly) speechless?
Seriously, there is just nothing else to add to this story. It’s perfect (now that you’ve admitted to the “Tron” homage).
So, yeah: “Awesome” is really all I have to say.
And, maybe, “Thanks for sharing the weird.”
It was a wonderful thing you did, and I hope your kids remember how much you love them.
However, the aches & pains? Welcome to old age & decrepitude…
Ignatz
Ooh, if you like Frisbee, you seriously need to consider the aerobi pro ring . Its a blast, has great flying distance and makes for interesting extreme frisbee. For even more fun, tape a couple of glow sticks to across from each other. Its a blast.
eggs-cellent. this will stick with him long after he grows out of calling things “weird.”
These stories are my very favorite. Thanks Wil!
These stories are my very favorite. Thanks Wil!
My daughter has called her stepdad “too supportive” many times, which is her 9 year old way of saying how weird he is. But she loves it!
Rock on!
My company recently moved into a new office building because we had outgrown our previous space. One of the benefits of the move was that I went from a corner cubicle to a window office. Alas, I had to share it with a co-worker, one of the youngest guys in the company. We were having a conversation shortly after the move, I don’t remember what it was about, but he used this phrase in reference to something I thought was pretty cool: “That’s totally sick.”
It took a few questions for me to determine that, yes, he meant “sick” in a good way. “Damn,” I thought, “I’m now old enough that I don’t understand the slang younger people are using. When the hell did that happen?”
Anyway, my son is a little too young for playing frisbee, but we go to the park to play on the big toys, and he likes to ride his tricycle. Can’t wait until he can play “big kid” games.
I told my daughter she was “weird” the other day…her reply?
“You’re just not creative enough to understand me.”
I’m STILL laughing about THAT one.
Try tossing that one at him the next time he says you’re weird. 😉
This was an awesome story, and frisbee is an amazingly easy way to get out and have fun with your kids. I even got my kids off the couch this summer by doing that same thing! Thanks for sharing!!! 🙂
My dad sometimes used to ask me to play catch with him in our side yard. I never particularly wanted to, but I generally did what he asked me to. In hindsight (I’m 51 years old and my dad died in 1999), I guess he wanted to spend some time with me. This may very well be the first time that’s ever occurred to me.
I have 3 kids, all boys (6, 8, and 11 years old), who I’d better spend some time with before it’s too late.
Thanks, Wil!