
Now that the holidays have finally come to a close, I felt it was time to share with you all the lump of coal that Santa left in my stocking. It was black, shaped like a PS3 controller, and dripping with orange juice. That’s right — my children conspired against me to “accidentally” give my DualShock 3 an orange juice facial.
Now you might be thinking to yourself, “but how can an 18 month old conspire to do anything?” The answer; she’s wily. As the 4 year old and I say at the kitchen table enjoying our lunch, the littler one decided to drag my DualShock 3 onto the kitchen floor and leave it beside her sisters chair. Not really thinking anything of it (kids do weird shit all the time, you get used to it), I continued about my lunch. Moments later the older child reached across the table for something, knocking her orange juice over in the process. Wanton destruction ensued.
The wife tried to use the old “put it in rice” method that had been peudo-successful with an iPod that had been destroyed months earlier, but no such luck. That thing was deader than a doornail.
The good news? The thought of bashing their heads with a VCS console never entered my mind. Not a year goes by where you don’t hear about some sociopath beating a kid to death because they were crying during a marathon Halo session or because they walked in front of the screen at a crucial moment. And while I’d like to think I’m not one of those people, you never really know until the situation presents itself. So the good news is I’m not a gaming-motivated child killer. The bad news? I’m down to one Sixaxis, no rumble. Ah-boo.