Wait for me! Angry cars, Listening

I have no love of video games but I see some usefulness in the Wii. At least it offers many multi-player games, which is helpful since we are watching three boys for the next couple of weeks. I have no idea what games we have and I am amazed by the intuitive knowledge these three have of what needs to be done for any of the variety of games we do have available.
But eventually, like all games it leads to competition which leads to accusations of cheating which leads to fighting, etc. This is the reason I usually do not play games of any sort – especially video games. These three brothers tend to tolerate each other well and it is obvious that they are being taught to look out for one another, so their fighting never gets too carried away.
The other day they were playing some progression on the Wii and it was troubling the younger brother that his older siblings were moving too rapidly though the game leaving his character lagging behind somewhere off screen. I kept hearing him say, “Wait for me, you guys, wait for me!” And I thought how odd it was that he thinks of his character in the same way that he would think of himself if his brothers were rounding a corner ahead of him at our apartment complex. I’m sure they all know it’s only a game. Well, maybe I’m sure.
Since I rarely participate in games and usually stand on the sidelines, people who do not know me tend to think I am uninterested. But, from my perspective, it gives me more freedom to listen. I have gotten many insights into the lives of my own children and those we have watched by picking up bits of conversation, off-hand remarks and casual comments that went unnoticed by those in the middle of the activity.
By not being absorbed in the game I have had the freedom to offer help, the time to offer explanation, the convenience of an outsider focus by not being in the competition, and the opportunity to listen rather than focusing on the next move. It’s what works for me.
Speaking of listening, as we were driving home the other day, we pulled up behind a Honda of some sort. It had a tall back end with the lights running down both sides of the lift gate. We were in the fifteen passenger church van and the little girl was sitting in her car seat in the middle of the first row of seats. She looked at the lights of the Honda as it came to a stop in front of us and calmly remarked, “That car’s mad, Mama Kim.”
As much as I tried I could not make out the angry face she was seeing on the car, but she was sure she saw it. As the traffic light turned green and we all began to ease forward, the brake lights went off and she pulled her Sippy cup away from her mouth and said, “Its okay now.”
I’m glad we got that cleared up. I only regret not being able to tell you which angry car to avoid.