Confessions of a 37-year-old Pokémon Go addict

Hi. I’m Fran, I’m a 37 year old mother of two, and when I’m not busy messing around on Facebook, attempting (poorly) to homeschool my children or tidying up dog sick, I am worryingly addicted to playing Pokémon Go.

It all started back in July.

At that point we had been in lockdown for what seemed like forever, but was in fact not even half of forever. In an attempt to get the children more active and make leaving the house less of a monumental ball ache, I downloaded the free game. Friends had recommended it as a good motivator to get the kids out, happily walking in the fresh air, albeit staring constantly at a phone screen rather than the natural world around them.

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Hey – you win some, you lose some.

I was sceptical, but lo and behold it actually worked!

For my five year old at least. Almost instantly, he became absolutely obsessed with collecting Pokémon to the point that he has now given up on his previous love of Paw Patrol entirely.

Marshall has been well and truly usurped by Pikachu.

I am not sorry about that (incidentally, I have a lot of Paw Patrol crap toys available at low, low prices).

It is literally the first thing he talks about in the morning – you open your eyes and he’ll already be asking for a go on your phone and talking about what he’s evolved or how many Pikachus he has or how strong his Jigglypuff is or something – and he will keep talking about it all day if you don’t specifically ask him not to. Even then he tends to ignore you. I am a little more sorry about that. It’s a lot.

He can now tell you the names and evolutions of hundreds of Pokémon, what type each of them are and who they can successfully fight against. I’m fairly sure that he only learned to read so that he could find out their names.

His current year one school work involves comparing numbers, which he breezes through, having six months of experience in deciding which of his Pokémon has the highest score. Last week he refused to do any handwriting for school, but he did write out an A-Z of Pokémon of his own volition while I was otherwise engaged on a Zoom meeting.

In an effort to have something to bond over, I also started playing Pokemon Go myself.

…And that is why I have been playing Pokémon Go pretty much every damn day since.

…And I also know the stupid Pokémon, and all the evolutions.

I’m not proud but it is what it is.

I’ve walked 600km collecting 4000 sodding Pokémon. My dog walking route is now designed to take me past as many Pokéstops and Gyms as possible, and I have dragged that poor dog out in the wind, the rain and the freezing cold just to catch a new fricking Pokémon and been bloody livid when it fled before I got there.

I’ve amassed 66 ‘Pokéfriends’ from all over the world.

I’ve battled in mega raids in Australia, I get virtual postcards from Japan. I’ve Googled ‘Why can’t I power up my Gyarados’ when I couldn’t sleep at 3am and spent days perfecting my curveball throws. I’ve nipped out of the house just before bedtime to reclaim a gym from some little bastard who’s taken it off me. That’ll show him.

What’s worse is that I’ve got my friends hooked too; all in the guise of encouraging their children to get outside. Some of them (mentioning no names) take it very seriously indeed.

However, I do not have Pikachu pyjamas, nor can I answer my son when he asks who my favourite Pokémon is, and I think that is essentially what separates me from a five year old.