There are no mirrors in my son’s bedroom. There is a bed, a dresser, a goldfish, and a Moroccan pouf ottoman. There are dozens of green, blue, red, and black darts color-coded to match brightly hued blasters by Nerf and by BOOMco. Quietly neglected but faithfully lingering, certain stuffed animals have made their way to the corners.

In the closet, several types of Battleship games, electronic and old-school, share space with sports regalia. And crammed onto the dresser are—along with the spy kit components, the collection of sticks, and the porcelain piggy bank that is also a bust of Optimus Prime—four slimes, three creepers, two zombies, and a cave spider, all of the fold-up cardboard variety.

On the wall next to the Skylanders poster is a richer, more complicated one. It features the creepers, zombies, and dozens of other mobs (“mobile entities”) that belong to the Minecraft universe. You’re presented with farm animals, rabbits, and wolves, but also ghasts, witches, skeletons, zombie pigmen, and long-armed, jet-black, teleporting endermen, eyes emitting an eerie, purplish glow.

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Read the article “What Minecraft Teaches Me about Fatherhood” on thefederalist.com.