You all know that I am not only the biggest dork when it comes to being techno-savvy, right? But now it seems that I am also the biggest dork when it comes to figuring out something like a Wii.
I know, I know, it’s a very simple gaming system. Or at least it appears to be.
I took the one we had out of the closet and dusted it off, thinking that since I wasn’t going to be able to dance around the house using someone’s iTouch, I’d just better get in the habit of turning on the Wii.
The first step is the most important: Find a pair of reading glasses in order to find the “on” button.
Once it’s on, the menu pops up. OK, that’s a good sign. Now what? Oh, step two: Call in the boy wonder and have him explain how to use the remote and read the screen.
That part was all well and good.
I excused him and he reluctantly made his way out of the room.
I clicked on “Boxing.” Time for a real workout.
With a device in each hand, I made my way through the first round like a bobblehead. I got smacked silly and crumpled to the floor in a heap of Weebleness. You remember Weebles, right? They wobble but they don’t fall down. Til they’re in a Wii boxing match, that is.
I waited for the count and suddenly sprang back to life with about three-quarters life left in me.
I made it through the first three rounds with a few points and a badly wounded ego.
I realized halfway through the match that I should have had the song “Kung Fu Fighting” playing in the background, because my leg seemed to kick up all on its own ... punch punch kick ... I was all over the floor playing that game. I think I looked more like one of those big wind puppets at a car dealership than I did someone in a boxing match.
At the end of the third round, I managed to get my opponent down and heard the delightful sound of “Knock Out!” dingdingding!!
Boy Wonder peeks around the corner and says, “Can I play?”
Far be it from him to let his mother have a little fun on her own. He just couldn’t stand it. He had to get in on the action.
I said, “Sure! Come on!”
So he quickly got down to business and had us set up in no time for two players, asking me if I was ready.
“Yep. Let ‘er rip!”
He looked at me and said, “I’m gonna own you.”
So, not only did he want in on the action, he wanted to assert his dominant male genes as well.
I tried to keep my wits about me and started flailing my arms around like I was beating mosquitos offa me.
He sat on the bed and with a few flicks of his wrists, had me down on the mat.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead and breathed a heavy, “I’m gonna kick it in round two, boyo.”
He laughed and rolled his eyes.
He calmly walked back and forth in front of me, which I found very unnerving.
I huffed and puffed, “You better watch out kid, I can’t seem to control my arms and legs...”.
Dingdingding! He beat me again.
He put his hand-helds down and stuck his chest out, arms stuck out to the side in that thuggish kinda way and got in my face.
“You goin’ down, mama, see? Huh? You goin’ down, woman!”
The bell rang for the final round to begin.
“Fight!” the announcer called.
I went into my manic act of legs poppin’ and arms flailin’ and then bang! Down on the mat again.
KO’d by my own kid.
He calmly put his stuff down and cracked his knuckles.
I had to endure three more sporting events at his whim.
By the time he went back to his xBox, I was all weebled out on the floor.
After several rounds with the heating pad and Tylenol, I think I’ve got about three-quarters of life left.
Now I know to only play the Wii when Boy Wonder is at school.
It’s that ego thing, you know.