I hijacked my diet buddy’s kids for Free Comic Book day since my friend works Saturdays. I’ve done this the fast few years actually, sometimes including the random other friend of Spawn’s. I hate the idea they have nothing to do all the time, especially on the one day a good bulk of cool stuff happens.
The kids usually expect to use their own spending money to get what they want, but I usually give them a set amount and anything over they have to cover. They’ve rarely if ever met their cap in the years I’ve been taking them.
They are not exposed as much to comic books, manga, and anime as Spawn has been. This is changing rapidly. This has all been my fault, as I’ve been so pointedly reminded of by their parental from time to time when time-limited bans are set due to overindulgence.
I’ve yet to feel any remorse.
In fact, I generally tend to give them a list to check out when the ban is lifted.
I’m an enabling asshole like that.
I was the kid who wasn’t allowed comics, so I have an immense amount to catch up with on this subject. Grand thought of comic books as brain-rotting evil and the only ones I was ever allowed were Archie. I still find comic shops a bit overwhelming on where to start and I tend to chicken out to the online options if on my own. I’m getting better since I’m the one who ends up having to get the kids going.
As a kid, I got my fix only through the MAD magazine they kept at kid-level since the manager at the grocery store we frequented thought anything with a cartoon character was obviously for children. I got educated on a lot of things prematurely because of this too.
My uncle’s collection of Hustler kind of helped fill in many blanks as well, along with setting a weird set of expectations (missionary looks rather tame after that), but I digress.
I was a little disappointed in the comic store this year. We like this one since its range it more expanded and not so focused on the jock squad with the pseudo-porn sporting huge spandex tits and ass up front and center.
In fact, I was kind shocked/elated to find out we had about a dozen or more comic stores to choose from in our area, but the one closest to us is very focused on the older male set alone. As excited as they were to see kids in their store the one year we went, we really didn’t feel that welcome by their set up and stock.
I don’t think they understand the message their arrangement and limited variety portrays. I truly believe that’s just all they think of when they hear “comics.”
This one we favored, last year at least, had comic book artists handing out sketches and talking with the public about their work. Of course, the artists had copies of their projects out for sale. There were door prizes, costume contests, hell even snacks. It was a blast. We were there for hours and spent a crapload.
This year there was none of that. There was one guy wearing an impressive comic book business suit and one little girl sporting a space/hero suit.
That was it.
I had one little runt of no more than seven decide he was going to pick a fight with me.
He slapped me on the ass and stuck his tongue out when I turned to check out who was getting fresh. Of course, like any mature adult, I responded by pulling a face that nearly turned my nostrils inside out.
He ran off.
Spawn:”well, at least you get some playtime with those your own age…”
We had a five comic per person limit, so Spawn checked my choices before running off to find their own, to which I responded, “Who said I was sharing?”
I got the kids started on finding their sections of choice to get the plundering started, then realized I hadn’t picked anything out for myself. I meandered around, I just didn’t see a whole lot jump out at me. Some “would likes,” not a lot of “gotta haves.”
I had several of the Sandman series I still hadn’t finished yet, so I felt a bit guilty adding to my queue.
Then I saw it. The one indulgence most only children don’t think of because imaginary friends are cheating assholes.
A game! A card game!
The only card games I know are Poker (I suck) and Spite & Malice (or as my mom would say, Spit & Shit).
I guess this tells you more about my childhood than I have.
But it had the learning curve I like and matched my attention span… two minutes to learn, no more than 30 minutes of play….
It was Exploding Kittens! Yes, kamikaze felines out to kill you aside from the real ones you might already have at home!
The whole goal is to avoid being virtual exploded by feline bitchiness while trolling the other players to they can be exploded, what more could you ask for?
Dicks, that’s what you could ask for.
Now to get my hands on the NSFW version so I can have the dicks too.