My seven-year-old son was home sick from school the other day with a sore throat and after a cough-filled and sleep-deprived night. Since I was home anyway convalescing from my recent shoulder-replacement surgery, I found myself oxymoronically in the roles of patient and caregiver.
The boy was enjoying some of his screen time during the day, so I decided I deserved some as well. I’ve been picking away at Marvel’s The Punisher on Netflix lately, so I decided to delve into another episode on my computer (with my headphones on so my son wasn’t hearing the cursing and violence, since we were in the same room).
After halfway through Episode 7, the scene below began to play out on screen:
“What’s that man doing, Daddy?” a young voice asked from behind me. Apparently, Plants Vs. Zombies can’t compete with a colonel in uniform with a ballgag in his mouth.
“Yeah, the headphones aren’t going to cut it for this,” I mused to myself as I exited the window. “I’ll catch up with you later, Frank.”