This weekend was my first experience playing the Wii (yes, I am eons behind the rest of the world). Ashley and Steve got the Wii sport, so the kids wanted me to come over and play it with them. This would certainly be a fun time, especially since I had been hearing about how much they enjoyed the Dance Party USA (or whatever it’s called). So, Friday evening I went over to their house for a fun-filled, non-threatening evening of video games. Now, I’ve never considered myself a competitive person. Rather, I’m an extremely competitive person. I want to beat you, period (slow and steady doesn’t win the race kids! It wins you 5th place. Congrats.). Anyway, I didn’t think my competitive nature would even come to the party considering I was playing with my 5 year old nephew and 3 year old niece. I was a teensy bit wrong, actually. The first thing we did was dance to “Womanizer” and I totally rocked it out. At first I was just trying to keep up, but it kept telling me how “Great!” I was doing, and it got a little out of control from there. Woohoo! I am so totally one of Britney’s backup dancers! So I won that one. Then, we danced to “Who Let The Dogs Out”, and Sam totally schooled me. I was like really? Because this dance wasn’t anything as technically complicated as the Britney one that I rocked out. I began noticing and looking for things that could possibly be affecting my performance… Sam is blocking me! The receiver can’t tell that I’m actually doing all of the steps right! Mine’s not working! (Yes, I know I am dancing around the living room with a 5 year old and complaining because I’m not winning. Don’t judge.) Now we are going to play boxing. Easy enough, just keep punching your arms. Got it. That kid laid me out in 3 seconds flat. I don’t think I landed a single punch the whole time, and this little punk kept knocking me out (for the record, only I can call him a little punk. Anyone else tries to, and I go all Shirley MacLaine a la Terms of Endearment on you). My controller must not be working! This isn’t fair! I can’t get anything to work! BAM and I’m knocked out for good. Next Sam wants to play baseball, and says that we won’t play boxing again because “Aunt Kelly’s not too good at that”. Baseball… easy enough, I think to myself. Three strikeouts later, and he starts trash-talking me. I say to myself, Self, remember this is just a game, and he is just a little kid and your sweet nephew that you love so much. Brush it off. One inning later, and this kid starts getting scrappy with me. Finger pointing in my face, trash-talking, and a swift kick in the shin (to his credit, I think he misjudged the distance between his foot and my leg, and had no real intention to kick me, but still… he kicked me). Involuntarily I grabbed his finger and told him if he did that again he would lose a finger. Oh he just thought that was so funny, and was laughing and shaking his arm, inadvertently pitching the ball when I wasn’t looking. So of course I strike out, again. Oh, now it’s on. My turn to pitch, watch out! I almost throw my shoulder out of socket throwing curve balls and fast balls, and dang if he doesn’t hit every single one of them. Home field advantage I say! It’s not fair! I don’t like losing! (Yes, I set a wonderful example of sportsmanship for little kids. Until I lose. Don't judge.)
Needless to say, the thought has crossed my mind to get a Wii of my own so that I can practice for our next match.
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