My dad had just finished hooking up the Nintendo. He dipped his head, took off his glasses, bit the end of them and started THE SPEECH.

"Remember, Byron, this is for rainy day use only."

My mind started to wander, I guess he'd picked up a booklet about good parenting in the supermarket. It probably said, "Never let your child play too much Nintendo. It is a proven fact that it is the major factor in grade reduction." He must have picked it up while I was in Florida. You know, he had a lot of time on his hands the week I was gone.

Last night I had returned from Florida. I had been there visiting my aunt and uncle and my father bought me the Nintendo as a coming home present. Man, I had what everyone wanted and I got it before Christmas, too! I can use it when I come home because I get home before my father, and now he can't complain that I watch too much TV.

He also included the most popular games: Super Mario Brothers, Baseball, Tennis, and Ten Yard Fight (Football). Boy that was enough to play for two hundred years without getting bored! The first game I played was great, I could be Roger Clemens, Bo Jackson, Luigi, or Steffi Graf.

I woke up one night to pay my water bill and there he was in the living room trying to stomp those little brown guys on Super Mario Brothers. When I stepped on a creaky board, he had heard me and quickly jumped and turned off the Nintendo.

"That's all right, Dad, as long as I can use it as much as you do."

"Yeah, right," he mumbled under his breath.

"Defeated again," I thought. n