For Christmas, J. ordered himself a Playstation 3. It arrived the weekend before, and in the time it took for me to ask if he wanted it wrapping and putting under the tree, he had ripped the box open and all the wires were attached to the television.
He’s been playing it ever since.
That is, he played non-stop until Friday night, when I decided I should learn to play.
It was pretty much an unmitigated disaster. I am not, it appears, good at driving games on the Playstation. Apart from issues steering, problems operating the accelerator and a lack of ability to brake – because those drawbacks are not sufficient for me – I actually managed to make myself carsick.
