Nintendo Master

I watch you silently over my computer screen, your intelligent blue eyes trained on your prize. Your fingers roll over the remote like water over smooth rocks, not pausing for a heartbeat.

Nintendo Master.

To my mother, you are her son. To me you aren't just my brother.

You are Nintendo Master.

The little blue-eyed seven-year-old kid who beat all the games on our old Nintendo in a day. Donkey Kong wouldn't stand a chance. Bowser would melt in fright. Donkey Kong Junior would crap himself silly.

When the doctor came and you were bored, doing tests for hours, I wanted to scream.

" Let him play, you idiot!" I'd mentally curse.

Nintendo beware, my brother-I mean, Nintendo Master, is here.