Last night Jacob and I went out to play Pokémon Go.

I will be honest.  I’m not particularly interested in Pokémon.  Never have been.  Never fully understood the fascination with the cards, or what my kids did with them.

Jacob downloaded Pokémon Go on his phone.  Last night he asked me if I wanted to go play it with him.  I’ve been complaining that I’m not getting enough exercise.  There are a couple of problem people in my neighborhood that have kept me from wanting to go out by myself.  Plus the awful, surface of the sun, heat.  But last night my son volunteered to go outside to walk around with me and look for Pokémon’s.

I jumped at the chance.  I found a few.  I’m not very good at catching them, but I had expert assistance.

It was fun.  Walking around the neighborhood.  Talking to Jacob.  Getting exercise.

As we were heading home, after walking around for about 30 minutes and finding a couple of Pokémon, a young couple drove by and the passenger leaned out the windows and asked, “Are y’all playing Pokémon Go?”  And when I replied we were, he said, “That’s awesome!”  I beamed and wanted to say, “I’m that fun kinda Mom you’ve always heard about!” But instead we just waved.