When I was younger I greatly resented my parents. They refused to install cable or buy any video games so my sister and I were left to our own devices. We checked out books from the library every week. I wrote feverishly in my diary, documenting everything from my third-grade crush to high school graduation. I played outside and formed a band with my sister for a short time.

I always was jealous of the other kids who lived in a digital utopia. I would marvel at the speed of tiny thumbs flying across plastic controllers dictating the moves of a pixelated character. In seventh grade everyone watched the MTV Music Awards and I could not, leaving me out of the lunchtime conversations. But I got over it.

Now, as a college student, I am so glad my parents made the choices they did. They eventually got satellite and we all enjoy it, but we still own no video games and none of us has a television in our bedroom. I think back to the times my sister and I played with stuffed animals on Saturday mornings while most of my peers were staring blankly at Mario and his friends. My father also didn't believe in pre-school; he though it was a waste of money and when I was four he sat down and taught me numbers, shapes and whatever else sticky toddlers learn. I fuzzily remember sitting on his lap as he sketched a triangle with his blue Bic pen, always blue and never black, and how excited I was. I've heard people say that children need to go to pre-school to learn socialization skills and that video games enhance hand-eye coordination as well as strategic thinking. Bull. Shit.

As I kid I wanted what all the other kids had, but my parents knew what they were doing all along. I owe everything to them; they encouraged me to read, write, ride my bike and go outside. Thanks, mom and dad.