The Nintendo Alarm transforms my bedroom into a battlefield.

The arrival of Nintendo's new alarm clock at my home was an event that, within just two days, began to cause havoc. One morning, waking up to the chaotic sounds of Splatoon 3, my girlfriend, still groggy, turned to me and confessed, "I don't like the Alarmo; it's aggressive." It was a sad statement that resonated just as the effects of an army of Inklings shooting echoed explosively from the nightstand.

Being part of the world of video game writing sometimes means subjecting those around you to absurd situations. Whether it's taking over the living room for a week or testing strange devices that alter scents based on a game's sounds, I enjoy that eclectic facet of the job, even if it has its consequences. So, when Nintendo announced the Alarmo, I knew my home would become a battlefield, forcing my girlfriend to endure yet another piece of extravagant technology.

One ordinary morning, Nintendo revealed a video about a new device. If this information is considered out of context, one might think they were finally announcing their next console. However, what they showcased was the Alarmo, an interactive alarm clock that uses sounds from Switch games and a motion sensor to wake up users. It was a peculiar presentation that reminded me of Nintendo's creative essence. Once the initial confusion faded, some commentators on social media began to see the device as a tool that could help foster better sleep habits among adults who are fans of the brand.

When the Alarmo arrived at my apartment the next day, I explained to my girlfriend what would happen: Nintendo had created an alarm clock, and I planned to test it for a week. She, always willing to join me in these crazes, showed signs of resignation. Upon unboxing the adorable red device, I realized that Alarmo was more than just a simple alarm clock. We would have to move around to silence the sound, and especially, it would only stop completely when both of us were out of bed. If I got up and she stayed in bed, it would trigger a "hurry up" state that would intensify the noise.

Despite the melodrama of the situation, we were both excited to try the Alarmo. It was a bit ridiculous, but absurd experiences are what fuel our anecdotes as a couple. On the first day, it didn’t wake us with the gentle melody of The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild; instead, the loud sound of Ring Fit Adventure filled the room. It was not just music; the alarm clock also emitted very shrill sound effects. So, still half-asleep, one of the characters was telling us it was time to paddle in a boat.

As the days went by, the experience became even stranger. On the second day, Splatoon got us out of bed with its youthful energy, while the next day, the Alarmo surprised us again with motivational shouts about our muscles. Sometimes, in the middle of our conversations, the alarm clock would start its cycle again, and we would have to move as if we were inflatable dolls. Gradually, we started to fear the Alarmo, as each morning could bring a new symphony of jarring sounds.

The experience made us start to view the Alarmo in a different light. During a visit to my parents' house, I took the alarm clock with me. Upon setting it up, I realized the design of the Alarmo was more geared toward children. Looking at it alongside my childhood memories, like a Beanie Baby and a school photo of myself, I understood that this device could bring joy to a child, something we forget when judging it from an adult perspective.

Waking up at my parents' house, the Alarmo emitted sounds from Pikmin, and when I pressed its button, I felt a spark of nostalgia and joy. The illusion of childhood returned, if only briefly. Often, the biggest critics of Nintendo forget that their true audience is the younger generation who enjoys their creations. I have grown up, and although my relationship with Nintendo has changed, the Alarmo became a symbol of this transition.

It’s a reminder that, while I have left certain things from my childhood behind, I am in a new chapter of my life, and I couldn't be happier about it. Maybe I should send the Alarmo to my niece after all; it deserves to thank my home for the revelation it made me experience.