Why I Bought My Kids a Game Boy Color

The Cartridges Came First

Before the Game Boy Color even arrived, the cartridges started showing up.

That was the funny part. Little games landing before the system itself. The kids had overheard enough bits and pieces of our conversations to know something was coming, even though it was supposed to be a surprise. One wanted the Toy Story game. One wanted Barbie. Then we had to explain, “No, the Game Boy is the thing you hold. These games go inside it. You can take one out and put another one in.”

That alone felt like a small moment of wonder.

They are used to phones, where games just appear on a screen. You tap the picture and there it is. Another app, another icon, another thing to open and close and move between. But with this, there was a physical object. A cartridge. A slot. A switch. A little machine that had to be held, learned, and understood.

Before the kids even played it, I could tell this was going to be a different kind of screen experience.

The One That Looked Like Mine

This whole thing really started when my dad sent me a picture of a surprise he had bought for me.

It was a Game Boy Color.

That alone made me happy. I had already been thinking for a while that our older two kids were getting mature enough for something more focused than just TV time or phone games. They seemed cognitively ready to try something with a little more problem-solving, a little more patience, and a little more “figure it out” built into it.

So when my dad sent that picture, it lit the idea up again.

The one he bought is coming with him when he visits. After seeing it, I ordered another one for our house so the two older kids could eventually both have one without it becoming a constant tug-of-war. And when the one I ordered arrived, it happened to be the same color as the Game Boy Color I had when I was a kid.

That made me happier than I expected.

The kids were outside swimming when it came in, so I tested it on the sofa by myself. I sat there for a little while, holding this thing I hadn’t held in years, playing again, remembering what it felt like to have one in my hands. Not in a dramatic way. Just in that quiet, dad-smiling-on-the-sofa kind of way.

When I was a kid, I was the only child in my household. The Game Boy was mostly my thing. My game. My little world.

Now, all these years later, I was holding one again and thinking, This gets to be a family thing now.

That hit me. Not because I’m trying to recreate my childhood for my kids, but because there was something beautiful about handing them a piece of it and saying, “Let me show you how this works.”

Why Not Just the Phone?

For the past several months, when the kids had electronic time, the options were basically TV or phone use. I’m not anti-TV. We have shows we watch together as a family, and I’m thankful for those simple, relaxing moments. I’m also not pretending my kids have never used a phone. They have.

But I started noticing something.

The phone felt different. It was bright. Close to their face. Fast. Full of tapping and switching and little bursts of stimulation. Even when the content was fine, the environment itself still felt like a lot.

It didn’t feel like something they were learning as much as something they were getting pulled into. And as they got older, I started seeing signs that maybe they were ready for something more advanced than just watching TV or tapping through random things on a phone.

That’s where the Game Boy Color started to make sense to me. Not because it’s magic. Not because old technology is automatically better. But because it is slower, simpler, more limited, and in some ways, more demanding in the right direction.

Less Visual Noise, More Mental Work

The Game Boy Color does not scream at your eyes. There is no backlight blasting into their faces. The colors are not pushing themselves into your eyeballs the way modern screens can. The sound is simple. The visuals are simple. The whole thing feels toned down.

But mentally, there is more going on than I think people might expect.

If my son is playing Pokémon, he has to pay attention. He has to figure out where he is going. He has to listen as we help him understand what is happening. He has to remember what he was doing and learn that progress takes time. It is a little advanced for him right now, which is actually part of why I like playing it with him. We are not just handing it over and disappearing. We are helping him enter the challenge.

If my daughter is playing Barbie, she is learning how to follow instructions, make choices, and understand what the game is asking her to do. Since she is learning how to read, my wife sits beside her and helps when the words are a little too much. That turns the game into a literacy moment, a patience moment, and a connection moment all at the same time.

That matters to me, because I don’t just want my children entertained. I want them engaged.

That is very different from handing them a phone and letting the app environment do the shaping. This way, we are still leading. We are still nearby. We are still part of the story.

One Game at a Time

One of the things I like most about the Game Boy Color is that it does one thing at a time.

You put in Pokémon, and you play Pokémon. You put in Barbie, and you play Barbie. You are not inside one app that has fifty little side games attached to it. There is a singular focus to it: one device, one cartridge, one objective.

I believe that is helpful for kids. At least, that is what I am hoping and watching for in our home. It gives them something to focus on without throwing an entire digital buffet in front of them. They are not bouncing from one bright thing to the next just because their attention got bored after twelve seconds.

And that single focus has already started to show fruit.

My daughter recently finished solving her first problem in her game. It did not happen in one sitting. She played, made some progress, stopped, and then on the next playday — a couple of days later — she picked it back up and completed the task she had been working on.

That was really cool to see. Not because it was some huge academic milestone, but because it showed focused effort over time. She had a goal. She came back to it. She finished it.

That’s the kind of thing I want to encourage.

Teaching Them Was the Best Part

The real joy wasn’t just handing them the Game Boy. It was teaching them how to use it.

How to hold it. How to put the game in. How to take the game out. How to turn it on. How to troubleshoot if the game is not seated properly. How to understand that the device and the game are different things.

Watching them pay attention while I taught them something was amazing.

That may sound like a small thing, but any dad of young kids knows what I mean. There are plenty of times when you try to teach something useful and it feels like the words bounce off the wall. But this time, they were locked in. Curious. Interested. Wondering how this strange little machine worked.

That is one of the hidden gifts of this whole thing. It turned tech time into bonding time. And honestly, that made me really happy.

A Different Atmosphere in the House

I can feel the difference between this and phone time.

With the phone, it can feel like they get locked into a zone. That is not always the case, but it happens enough that I notice it. Stopping can be harder. Switching can be constant. The pull of “just one more” can be stronger.

With the Game Boy, at least so far, it feels different. They are focused, but not swallowed. They can stop more easily. They can save the game and turn it off. They can ask questions while they are learning. They can play near us instead of disappearing into whatever the phone is offering next.

And because we are often sitting beside them, the whole thing feels more relational. That is important to me. I don’t want tech time to pull them away from the family. I want to find ways for it to become part of family life without letting it lead the family.

Junk Food, Junk Tech, and What Shapes Our Kids

This connects directly to something I have been thinking about with food.

The same way what we put into our bodies affects how our bodies perform, what we put into our minds affects how our minds perform. A phone can be a little like a bag full of candy. Not evil. Not forbidden. But highly stimulating, easy to overdo, and designed in a way that can keep you reaching for more.

A Game Boy Color feels different. It is still entertainment. It is still a screen. It is still something that needs boundaries. But it feels more like a focused activity than an endless digital snack bag.

That is one of the bigger lessons for me as a dad right now. I don’t want convenience to quietly shape my children’s habits. Not with food. Not with entertainment. Not with screens.

As their dad, I have a responsibility to pay attention to what is forming them.

Our Boundaries Around It

This does not mean they get to play all day. It is like any other tech time in our house.

We do the things that need to be done. Chores matter. Family rhythms matter. Attitude matters. Then there can be time to play. Right now, since the second Game Boy Color has not arrived yet, they are taking turns with Mommy and Daddy while they learn.

Eventually, they will each have their own, and I may even order one for myself so we can enjoy that together too. But the boundary is still the same. Tech is part of the day. It is not the center of the day.

And even though our kids are not currently struggling with games taking over everything, I still want that culture in place before it becomes a problem.

That is leadership too.

What I Would Tell Another Dad

If a dad told me, “It is just easier to hand them the phone,” I would understand. It is easier. Sometimes you need the convenient option. Sometimes you are tired. Sometimes you need the house to be quiet for a minute.

I am not judging that, because we have used phones too.

But easier is not always the same as better.

Sometimes the loving thing takes a little more effort. You may have to teach them how to use something. You may have to sit beside them. You may have to explain how the game works, help them save, help them take turns, and help them understand that not every screen works like a phone.

But that effort can become connection.

That is the part we miss when we only think about convenience. The question is not just, “What keeps them busy?” The better question is, “What is this forming in them?”

Quiet Challenge

This week, look at one part of your kids’ entertainment and ask a simple question:

Is this helping them grow, or just keeping them occupied?

That does not mean you have to throw everything away. It just means you pause. Pay attention. Ask what the screen is training. Ask what kind of atmosphere it creates. Ask whether there is a slower, simpler, healthier version of fun you could introduce.

For us, one answer was a Game Boy Color. For your family, it might be something else.

The point is not the device. The point is the leadership behind it.

If you want help thinking through practical family decisions like screens, food, routines, and household culture, start with the Home Leadership Framework. It is built to help dads lead with clarity and intention in the ordinary places where family culture is actually formed.

And when you’re ready to build a deeper system across faith, self-care, family, finances, and purpose, the Five Pillars Alignment Course is the next step.