I call bulls**t!
Whenever I see something impossible like this, that’s my immediate reaction. Maybe not always out loud, but sometimes definitely out and plenty loud. I’ve been fooled too many times by the Internet, and before that, by television and film when I was a kid.*
* Do you like how I’m making it sound like something that used to happen? Let’s all just pretend I’m not still gullible, m’kay? I am, after all, an owner of significantly large percentage of the Golden Gate Bridge, so have some respect please.
Plus, I’ve got childhood scars from this particular game. Permanent callouses on the thumbs of my soul from frantically button-mashing away at it. And when my frustration had always been about to boil over, I’d get three rings in a single shot. SQUEE! Only to blast the damned things off a microsecond later. The thing was created by a madman who hated kids. I swear it.
For those of you who aren’t familiar with this kind of game, it’s basically like pinball. Except imagine the pinball machine is more like a clear waterbed and, instead of firm metal balls deflected strategically with aimed paddles, you have to get feather-light plastic rings onto tiny pegs with random squirts of water and shear hope.
My 3yo son just got a modern version of the dreaded Waterful Ring-Toss, in the shape of a cellphone with an aquarium screensaver.
I watched him start playing with the fluid-filled torture device. He was delighted! As he continued to squeeze and giggle, I wondered to myself when he was going to get mad and huck it across the room in disgust. He never did.
A realization began to dawn on me.
I realized that I had always been going about this kind of game all wrong. My toddler son was teaching me something deep. I understood it now.
you have to not care
if you win!
I could practically hear the faint sound of some zen gong being struck somewhere far off.
I still call bulls**t on this picture! Whoever did this has been cheating and/or building miniature ships-in-a-bottle all their life! NO! FRIGGIN’! WAY!
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