Or "Grand Theft Auto IV" is the best dad ever, I should say.
I let my 1-year-old play "Grand Theft Auto IV," sorta. He vaguely understands that buttons he presses on the controller relate to the action onscreen, even though he'd rather put it on his head and say "hat" - one of the 17 words he knows - or throw it on the ground, or put it in his mouth, which is sort of gross because of all the germs and whatnot unless I think to Cloroxwipe it beforehand.
The reason I do this is to symbollically protest the idiocy of parents' groups who try to restrict freedom of expression in art and entertainment, and also because I'm the greatest dad in the world and I want to bestow the boy with the gift of being able to say he's been playing "Grand Theft Auto" since he was a baby. Plus the boy is handy with a pistol. And better with the virtual ladies. Michelle actually responds to his phonecalls. If he gets invited back to her apartment before I do I'm going to be a tiny bit jealous but mostly proud, just as I will when he's selected as the top pick in the 2027 NFL Draft.
But at least I'll get credit for the achievement because the boy doesn't have his own Live account.