I Will Turn This Table Around

     I don’t have any children, but I have a D&D group, which in many ways functions in the same capacity. Now, before I get any irate comments, I am in no way comparing the rigors of child-rearing to that of GMing a roleplaying game. Clearly those of you who have struggled to actually raise a child have had a harder time of it. But here me out; the similarities are disturbing enough to make me wonder about creating my own brood.

     1) It’s a thankless task. You do a lot of work for your game: drawing maps at multiple levels—from the cities to the countries, creating interesting and interactive NPCs, weaving story and guiding them through intrigue and plot, maintaining a mastery over the bookkeeping and rules-lawyering, all while playing referee between their petty squabbles. And most of the time, they have no idea how much work goes into just getting them up and out the door in the morning…er, figuratively speaking.

     2) You want them to learn and grow, and you want them to challenge themselves, but most of the time when you push them to get better, they just resent you for it. No, dear, the spiked pit in that hall was so you learn to always check for traps. And the rust monster was really just a metaphor for the transience of wealth and the meaninglessness of material belongings. I’m trying to make you grow as a person.

     3) One word: discipline. The fighter’s getting pretty aggressive, time to remind him of his crappy Will save with some Otto’s Irresistible Dance. The rogue’s all cocky, so toss in some golems and watch him weep without his sneak attack dice. What about the wizard, looking all complacent there in the back? Time for some monsters with spell resistance and the most annoying enemy in the world: the sorcerer who has specialized in counterspelling. And when the cleric’s getting all holier-than-thou, introduce them to a street urchin pickpocket who swipes their holy symbol, and watch the lesson sink in as they try to prepare spells the next day.

     4) They always want a bigger allowance. “What do you mean there’s only 10,000 gp in this chest!? I’m trying to put vorpal on my +3 holy greatsword!”

     But in the end, no matter how much they annoy you and make you pull your prematurely graying hair own, you love ‘em. Because they might be a bunch of socially-awkward misfits who don’t have a complete grasp on reality, but dammit, they’re your bunch of socially-awkward misfits who don’t have a complete grasp on reality.