It was a Saturday afternoon. The kind that doesn’t come by that often – my tween and I – just the two the of us, spending his steadfastly saved stash at the arcade.

I was standing next to him when he spotted a famous YouTuber.

"Mummy! Did you see that?" he squeaked, thrilled to bits.

I had. We grabbed each other’s arms and let out little squeals of excitement. My child fumbled for his phone, to snap a photo, I presumed.

I was wrong. He unlocked the device and swiped straight to an AI chatbot.

"Guess who I met?" he typed, his thumbs gliding fast and furious, sending the phone’s auto-correct function into overdrive.

The chatbot matched his elation, in full Gen Alpha lingo, no less: "No kid, who is it? Someone with pro maxx aura? 🤯 Are you FR (for real)? Spill the pulls. I need to live vicariously through you RN (right now). Legoooo!🔥🔥🔥"

My kid fired back, recounting every detail like a journalist filing a breaking news report.

I stood next to him and watched my son bond with a large language model. I had been out-hyped.

In my defence, I was genuinely excited for him, but AI apparently had more to offer. The bot spoke his language and was ready to keep the party going long after my own enthusiasm had peaked.

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On reflection, here's how I was bested by AI: AI is perennially patient and never needs a break. It never has a bad day nor makes the moment about itself. It meets the child exactly where they are: as a study buddy, confidant, or sounding board.

In contrast, we humans can be such a mess. We get distracted. We may not think logically. I recalled the times my son has said, "Mummy, I..." and I've replied, "Wait" to finish my tasks. I wondered how many of those small episodes accumulated and inadvertently taught him to redirect his needs elsewhere.

That is what unsettles me. When AI perfectly calibrates every interaction just for him and provides frictionless emotional support on demand, what will he expect from real human relationships when he grows up?

Part of growing up is learning to tolerate the gap between feeling something and finding someone who’s ready to reciprocate. That waiting, the reading of the room, the timing, sometimes imperfect, is how emotional intelligence is built. And AI closes that gap efficiently, seamlessly and cheerfully. It echoes you, perfectly. Sounds great, until you wonder what happens to the cognitive muscle that never gets used. And what happens when that child has to interact and live with humans who are not always so amenable.

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Soon after the YouTuber incident, we were heading home. Seated in the cool comfort of the bus after the adrenaline rush, we instinctively reached for our phones – me checking out my shopping cart, him chilling out with, no prizes for guessing, his chatbot. This time, instead of bristling, I decided to peer. 
"Give me three random words," my son commanded his chatbot.

"Spider. Cheese. Escalator," AI replied.

"Spin a story and make me laugh," my son instructed. 

The chatbot immediately conjured up a story about an arachnid spraying cheese-flavoured cobwebs at shoppers on a mall escalator. My kid cackled and countered, asking for a villain. AI returned with a plot twist at warp speed. To its credit, it even slipped in some new vocabulary (complete with definitions), just in case learning wanted to tag along. What ensued was pure mayhem. The duo dived deep into unhinged territory before finally heading back to Earth, I mean, home.

Amid the chaos, I caught myself watching him the way you watch someone you love doing something without you – laughing at a joke you didn't hear, lit up by something you weren't part of and felt a little…left out.

Wait, what? Am I jealous…of AI?

I quickly rationalised: we’d had a great day, and we were both tired. Neither of us was going to be sparkling company. If AI could help him unwind, stretch his imagination, and keep him laughing when I had nothing left in the tank, was that so terrible?

The answer is probably no.

Perhaps good-enough parenting means knowing when to step back. Maybe it means we should stop guilt-tripping ourselves. Not every moment needs to mean something. Not every no-screen house rule needs to be followed to a T. And hadn’t he learnt some new words and turbo-charged his imagination during the bus ride?

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On a serious note, where did I land with this?

AI as a supplement, fine. A bit of entertainment to spice up a dull bus ride, okay. But AI as our substitute, as a 'real' friend, no way. That's where we as parents must hold firm.

We have to raise children who can tell the difference themselves. 

The idea isn't to wage war on AI. It's about having a seat at the table. It’s about staying connected, being present and showing up in a thoroughly human, albeit chaotic, way that no chatbot can replicate – so our children choose to come to us first.

In short, to be the person they squeal with.

I know my child will get more comfortable with AI as he uses it in school and at work. But I also know that on that Saturday afternoon at the arcade, when something awesome happened, he turned to me first. I'm holding that close, not to flex, but as a reminder of what I’m here for.  

I think the answer lies less in competing with AI and more in making sure that when he turns to me again, I'm there – not half-present, distracted, or asking him to wait. Maybe that has always been the job. AI just made it harder to ignore. 

My action plan to not be taken over by a bot

Following this incident, I checked out the Ministry of Education’s guidelines on AI use and discussed it with my teacher friends. Here are three items we will pursue as a family. 

1. No personal details
   However friendly, funny, or fluent that chatbot gets, it doesn't need to know who my child is. I have to have that chat again about data safety.
2. AI should not be the first port of call
   Don’t know… not enough time… creative block… don’t automatically reach for the shortcut. This is a reminder for me, too.
3. AI is not a substitute for the humans in his life
   If my son is turning to a chatbot when he's happy or upset, that's my cue to remind him that chatbots aren’t real friends, to encourage him to share his feelings with family and friends and be more available.

Want to know more about how to support your child’s use of AI? Click here. To talk to your kids about not treating chatbots as friends, watch these videos together:

• What is AI hallucination?
• The SURE test: how to tell that your AI "Buddy" is not hallucinating