The Tamagotchi Test (2018)

“Daddy? I want a hamster.”

“You’re not having a hamster.”

“Why?”

“The ant died.”

“The ant wasn’t even REAL.”

“It was real.”

“It WASN’T!”

“Look – if you put something down on the floor and it runs away, it’s real.”

“The ant went home.”

“No, it didn’t.”

“It DID.”

“Evie, we found it at Westwood Cross, and now it’s with us in Ramsgate: the

chance of it ever finding its way home is zero.”

“You can’t give me an ant as a pet. It wasn’t even YOURS.”

“You’re still not having a hamster.”

“Even if we FIND one at Westwood Cross?”

“We’re not going to find a hamster at Westwood Cross.”

“We will if we go to the Pet Shop.”

“I said NO.”

I look down at the little manipulative face that can melt icebergs: the bottom lip begins to quiver. I hear myself saying: “What about a Tamagotchi?”

The lip stops quivering. An eyebrow raises. “What’s a Tamagotchi?”

I think on my feet.

“It’s an electronic hamster.”

“Is it REAL?”

“It’s real enough. It poos, and you have to clean it up. It gets hungry and you have to feed it.”

“How do you feed it?”

“You push a button.”

“How do you clean its poo?”

“You push a button.”

“That sounds BORING.”

“It’s not boring, and it will teach you responsibility. If the Tamagotchi dies, you can’t have a hamster. If it lives, we’ll see.”

“I’d rather have a hamster. I wanted to DO things with it.”

“You can do things with a Tamagotchi.”

“Like what?”

“You can take it to the cinema.”

“I could take a hamster to the cinema.”

“Try it at the Vue. See what happens.”

“Oh-KAY.”

“Good girl.”

That was over a week ago. The Tamagotchi is still alive...but it’s still alive because my wife and I take turns looking after it for the day. I think it keeps dying, though: every time I look into the little window, it seems like a different thing.

It wakes up at night sometimes and beeps.

I think it’s dying.

She still wants a hamster.