I Was a VR Taco…

This isn’t how I looked. I had yellow legs and arms and more lettuce.

It’s true. 

It’s one of those mom/grandma/taco moments. Though I usually prefer my tacos on a plate.

So my taco adventure began when my son asked me to meet him and the grandkids in a virtual reality chat room—a private one, of course. 

I managed to navigate the sign-on process pretty well—I thought. I think I got a little cocky and started clicking things too fast because when I saw the taco avatar flash by, I had an uneasy feeling that was going to be me in VR.

And I was right. 

So the conversation with my son and grandkids went something like this:

Son: Where are you?

Me: Look for a taco.

Son: A taco?

Me: I think I’m a taco. 

Pause.

Son: You’re a taco.

Me: I know. Don’t ask me how that happened. Just tell me how to change it.

Son: The kids want to VR with you.

Me (suspects he doesn’t know how to change me either): I’m a taco.

Grandchild 1: Grandma, why are you a taco?

Me: I’m not sure. 

Grandchild 1: You look funny. 

Me: I’m a taco.

Grandchild 2: Grandma, you’re a taco!

Me: I know.

Grandchild 2: You look funny! I want to be a taco, too.

Pause for both children to change their avatars into tacos. 

Me: How did you do that?

Grandkids: We’re all tacos!

I may have edited the conversation a tiny bit for brevity. For instance, I reduced the taco mentions by about 50%. Luckily, the kids finally showed me how to change my avatar. 

Now I kind of miss the taco.

But not that much. 

Have you tried VR? Were you a taco? 

Perilously yours,

Pauline

P.S. Please forgive the brevity of this post (and the preponderance of taco mentions). Both the renovation and the final edits for Maestra Rising are coming to a head. I’m hoping to do a before and after the renovation blog post, but the after is still rolling over me. It’s pretty heavy. But better than being a taco in VR.