Gameboy the Dungeonmaster

  My son has just started learning to play Dungeons & Dragons, and already he is creating his own maps and characters. I didn't know what this meant, exactly, until he created a game just for me.
  I have been sick, and it tortured him to wait until I was well enough to play. But finally, we set up his new, many-sided dice on my king-sized bed and got to rolling. He started to drape a blanket over himself like a big cloak.
  "What's with the cloak?" I asked.
  "I'm afraid the light will shine through the map, and you'll be able to read it," he said.
  I didn't tell him I couldn't make heads or tails of his map anyway. I just waited for him to tell me what to do. From under his blanket.
  "OK. You're in a long hallway, and at the end you can see a large chamber."
  "Can I just go home?" I asked.
  He poked his head out from the blanket and gave me a look.
  "Um," I said. "Do I assume that I must go down the hall for some reason?"
  I was being a pill. I know. But he was on his game.
  "OK," he said. "I can provide you with a prologue if you want."
  "Provide me with a prologue?" I thought. "Are you sure you're still only 9 years old?"
  He told me that my king has ordered me to enter this dungeon to explore it. That helped me understand my character's motivation. I entered the chamber.
  I found treasure but wouldn't take it. Again, his head popped out from under the blanket in exasperation.
  "I'm not a thief," I said.
  But then I looked down at one of my two characters. I actually was a thief. It said so right there.
  I almost died when two shadow wraiths attacked me, and I thought my best defense would be pacifism.
  "When they see that I refuse to fight, they'll leave me alone," I said.
  "Mo-om," my son said. "You're forgetting. I'M the one controlling them. Do you think I'm going to stop attacking? You'd better fight or you're gonna die."
  I started to realize how much work had gone into planning this game, and that I'd better start being less of a butt-head about it. I fought back with my exploding arrows and spell book to defeat them. When I found 125 gold pieces, I took them, ignoring my instinct that they'd be way too heavy to carry.
  I avoided falling into a pit where there was a skeleton-wolf because I lit up the dark corner with my blazing sword before approaching. I got lucky when I tried a bottle of potion, which boosted my health points by, like, 30. So I had some success. Oh yeah, and I got out alive, which is good.
  I don't think I'll become a regular D&D player, but I can see how playing this game stretches my son's imagination and exercises his brain. He had to figure out so many variables for the game he created. No character can be too strong or weak; there can't be any deadly traps without giving characters a fighting chance; there need to be risks and rewards balanced just right. He knew how to use the 20-sided die, the 4-sided die, the 6-sided, the many-other-sided. Lots of dice. I didn't know what he was doing, but he sure did. This is definitely something special he can do with his father.
  "Where did you learn to spell 'wraith'?" I asked as I looked at his map.
  "Dad told me," he said.