Paper Fox's Blogotorium

My boyfriend and I really love Pokemon. We both play the game (I have Pearl, he has Diamond) a fair bit during the week. We have a lot of fun when we play; I guess you could say it’s our guilty pleasure. We don’t live together, and as such are only really able to trade on weekends, as that is usually the only time I get to see him. When we do get together, we mostly get the urge to trade at night, but we usually have to turn our DSs right down so as not to arouse the suspicion of his parents.
This weekend my boyfriend’s parents went out for a drive, so we were all alone. Finally we could play and trade as loud as we wanted! I was really happy because my Aunt Florence had dropped by on Monday. Aunty Flo is a regular visitor, but I still had to keep her company and as a result I could not play at all during the week.
So having the house to ourselves, we whipped out our DSs and began to play.
I explored his Diamond for a bit, while he had a go on my Pearl. I was really happy to play, almost too happy, because I found myself yelling such comments as “Gimme your Mantyke now! Yeah!” and “Oh I want that huge Wobbuffet!”. My boyfriend was getting equally fanatic, saying that he really wanted his hands on my Jigglypuff, and that he’d take good care of my Squirtle.
I was begging for his shiny Geodude when we heard the front door slam. His parents were back early! We froze mid-game. Had they heard us? We were making such a racket that it would have been impossible for them not to notice.
I immediately felt a sense of shame. His parents would never approve of such an activity like playing Pokemon. What parent would? I know that they have played Scrabble before, but they probably hadn’t had a game in years! I doubt they even remember what it’s like to hit a triple word score.
So my boyfriend and I looked at each other as we silently put away our DSs. We probably wouldn’t be trading there for a while.