Half Term Fun, Games and Gismos

[The cover picture is AI-generated, not showing ‘actual’ children]

“Hello Trainer, are you ready for your Pokemon journey? I can read your mind and guess which Pokemon you’re thinking of. You just have to picture it in your mind and answer my question. If I can guess which Pokemon it is, it will be added to your electronic collection.”

Why had our car begun to talk to us in a robotic American accent? Jane and I were heading for the recycling centre with six bins full of garden waste, and we feared lest the owner of the voice was hiding in one of them. Whilst I unloaded the trimmings from our shrubs, Jane searched in vain for the key to the mystery. Helen was with us on our next trip, and she finally unearthed the culprit. [I played it on our family Whatsapp group. Someone mischievously replied, asking why we hadn’t emptied it out with the green waste ‘by accident’…]

You’ll have guessed by now that the speaking sphere was an item of lost property following a visit paid by Sam and Grace along with their dad, our son Martin. I met them off the train in Huddersfield, then came straight to The Pottery Spot in Brighouse town centre. Sam chose a bowl to paint for his mum, whilst Grace chose a penguin. Sam concentrated for a full hour on his creation whilst Grace happily entertained herself passing bricks along a wire. [The  picture is from the shop’s website.] First assignment – success.

  Teatime and bedtime were comparatively civilised, now that Grace no longer uses a high chair. High chairs, in my experience,  are devices from which young children can drop copious quantities of whatever foods they judge less appetising, onto clean floors. As regards the bedtime routine, we can read to Grace, but Sam? Nowadays his favourite books take the form of comic strips, which are a challenge for grandparents to read. It’s hard working out which bubble caption comes first, and especially if you’re also trying to remember which accent each of the characters speaks in.

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Saturday brought rain, an excellent day to visit the National Media Museum in Bradford where there was a gaming exhibition. Auntie Helen came with us whilst her dog Tank stayed at home with Jane. We began in the Wonderlab, where 27 scientific experiences in sound and light awaited. For example, the infinity hall of mirrors where we saw Sam and Grace in four different places at once but couldn’t tell which were the real versions.

Then we entered a room filled with children at desks with crayons and pencils. We created printed circuit boards using our pencils to shade in a pattern, making use of the graphite’s conductive properties. We then attached our circuit board to electrical clips and used it to operate a computer. Sam’s worked; ours didn’t. Only afterwards did I realise why. If you look at the picture, unlike us, Sam had placed his right forefinger on the earthing circle, completing the electrical circuit as the current flowed through his body!

It was lunchtime. Firstly, Sam went to the Mens. But Grace was reluctant to go to the Ladies. “I’m not a lady, I’m a sister!” she insisted.

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After leaving a trail of destruction for the café staff to clean up, Helen and Grace returned home whilst Sam and I went to the gaming exhibition. Firstly we took part in a live exercise to help us imagine how game inventors create their concepts. The kids had to cross the room on tiles. Various obstacles were added, with we grown-ups standing in strategic places ready to bombard our progeny with rubber balls. If we hit them, they lost a ‘life’. If they hit us, we were ‘deactivated’. Charming – but it was a relief to be able to understand, rather than feeling mesmerised by this modern form of entertainment!       

We then signed up to compete in a racing car time trial. Sam had 10 minutes to teach me how to navigate said car round a simulated track, including learning the ropes himself then passing on his knowledge. I then had 2 minutes to demonstrate my new-found prowess. You can guess what form ‘teaching me to navigate’ took, an educational method entirely devoid – in spite of my protests – of any practical training.

“C’mon Grandpa, can’t you go any faster than that?” complained Sam, as my inexperienced hands tried to master the console.

Despite these (not unexpected) complaints, we did enjoy our day out. When we eventually headed home, there wasn’t a train due, but there was a bus. Did you read my post Ordeal in the Snow (1^st February this year)? If so, can you guess which stop we caught the bus from?

Funny how soon you can end up returning to places you insist you never want to visit again…

Postscript: Mummy [Rachel] was delighted to be presented with her two items of pottery on Mothers’ Day.