If you have kids, there’s a decent chance you’ve heard this question:
“Can I get Robux?”
And if your kids play Roblox, you’ve probably heard it approximately 14,000 times.
My kids love Roblox.
But my 6-year-old?
This kid loves Roblox.
Dad, Will You Play Roblox With Me?
I actually like playing games with my kids.
I’ve been playing video games basically my entire life, so seeing them get excited about games is pretty awesome.
But lately I’ll walk through the house and hear:
“Dad, can you play Roblox with me?”
Sure.
Then ten minutes later:
“Dad, can you play Roblox?”
Buddy, I said later.
Five minutes pass.
“What about now?”
Apparently “later” has a very different definition when you’re six.
Can We Get Some Robux, Dad?
And then there’s Robux.
So. Much. Robux.
At this point, it reminds me of that episode of The Simpsons where Bart and Lisa repeatedly ask Homer:
“Can we have a pool, Dad?”
Over and over and over.
Except in my house it’s:
“Can I get Robux, Dad?”
“Can I get Robux, Dad?”
“Can I get Robux, Dad?”
“Can I get Robux, Dad?”
I feel you, Homer.
I really do.
And the negotiations never stop.
“Dad, can I get Robux?”
No.
“What if it’s only 400?”
No.
“What about 80?”
Still no.
“Can I use my money?”
Okay, now we’re entering negotiations.
I swear these kids could work in sales.
Everything Costs Robux
This is probably the funniest part to me.
When I was a kid, you played a game and unlocked stuff by… playing the game.
Crazy concept.
Now my kid finds some ridiculous Roblox character customization and suddenly we’re discussing a financial transaction.
New hair?
Robux.
Cool outfit?
Robux.
Some completely pointless thing that he’ll probably forget exists tomorrow?
ROBux.
And apparently Dad has been appointed Chief Financial Officer of Roblox purchases.
“You’re Addicted”
At this point I’ll occasionally just look at him and say:
“Dude. We get it. You’re addicted to Roblox.”
He doesn’t care.
He’s already moved on to explaining some Roblox game I’ve never heard of.
And I genuinely have no idea what’s happening.
There are approximately seven billion Roblox games, and somehow my kids expect me to know all of them.
“Dad, you know that game where you have to get the thing and then the guy comes after you?”
No.
No, I do not.
But I Kind of Get It
The funny thing is…
I was absolutely that kid.
Maybe it wasn’t Roblox and Robux, but I definitely obsessed over games.
I’d play the same games constantly. I’d talk about them constantly. I’d think about what I was going to do the next time I played.
So when my 6-year-old asks me for the fifth time that day if I’ll play Roblox with him, part of me is thinking:
Please. Find another game.
But another part of me knows there will eventually be a day when he doesn’t ask anymore.
And that’s the part that gets me.
So yeah.
I’ll play Roblox with you.
Just please…
stop asking me for Robux.
…
“Dad?”
What?
“Can I get Robux?”
God dammit.
Somewhere, Homer Simpson understands exactly what I’m going through.
