Angelina Ballerina owes me big time

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You know you’re an old duffer when your five year old daughter shows you how to make the TV work properly.

Remember the old days, when your dad would stare at the VHS recorder scratching his head, wondering why this new fangled machine had recorded Songs of Praise when he really wanted World of Sport? I’ve become him.

Keeping up to date with cutting edge wizardry is almost impossible.

As you’re walking out of the showroom, feeling proud with your new Crystal Vision TV, a pimply teenager is replenishing the shop floor with something that’s just a little bit better and has been designed by NASA.

I try and keep up to date with most developments, I’m not quite 3D, but I’m a little bit HD, if you know what I mean.

There is one element of all this gadgetry that has led to a spot of hand to hand combat in our house and that is computer games.

Molly has mentioned a few times that she’d like to have a state of the art, hand-held games console (if you’re old, it’s a much funkier version of the Gameboy, or if you’re really old it’s like a hand-held blackboard).

Kids love them, a lot of her friends have one and enjoy the thousands of games, stories and adventures.

Parents also love them, for playing games themselves and for the fact that the moment your child connects with the machine, they disconnect themselves from the real world, stop chattering and totally immerse themselves into the game – it’s like a mute button for a child. Bliss? Maybe.

With this power comes a lot of responsibility. If you don’t police the usage of the gadget properly, you can end up with an infra red eyed little monster who just wants to sit solemnly tapping away at the controls.

My friends have a son who loves his machine more than air and crisps.

Undoubtedly, Molly will end up with a games console of some description in the future, but it’s hard to reason with a five year old and their time management skills are pretty poor.

Until then, I let Molly play a few games on my phone from time to time and as a reward for hard yakka at school, I occasionally download a new game and we’ll both have a quick blast.

I’m learning quickly, but even this old dog is learning a few new moves.

Only this week I learnt a valuable lesson.

Leaving your phone logged in with the password active in the hands of a child is not only expensive, but can turn it into a hand held shrine to Angelina Ballerina and Peppa Pig.