Wii Are In Peril

This past weekend, our house was finally invaded by the cultural force that is hell-bent on destroying America's families. It's the modern day Pearl Harbor-in-a-box known as the Nintendo Wii.

I blame it on Costco. I was rounding the candy aisle, checkout lanes in sight, thinking that I might be able to leave the store for less than $200 when I spotted a stack of Wiis - and they were going fast.

I had a massive panic attack at the idea that I had to buy it RIGHT THEN AND THERE, or I would never see it for sale again. Anywhere. Ever. And especially not at such a good price. (Never mind that I had no idea how what the regular price is - I have been duly brainwashed that if it's at Costco it must be a bargain.) I told myself that I would be helping the economy, and that MD could get me a Wii Fit for my birthday so I could try yoga without having to go somewhere and be around people that are wearing coordinated outfits and chanting and having tantric group sex or whatever goes on in those classes.

So I shoved aside a slow-moving twelve-year-old and snatched up one of the last boxes. Twenty minutes later, having blown the equivalent of two car payments, it was wedged in my trunk next to a box of tampons large enough to last me from now until menopause.

When we were setting it up, I had visions of the four of us gatherered around the TV, laughing as we engaged in wholesome family violence, beating the digital crap out of each other's Mii avatars. In reality, it turned them into cage-fighting maniacs. Now, one kid "accidentally" backhands the other with a controller, the other retaliates, and a full-on deathmatch ensues, ending only when one of them winds up on the floor in a quivering pile of blood, snot, and tears.

Last night, when I told The Boy he had to stop playing to take a bath, he spontaneously combusted into forty-eight inches of white hot fury and threw down some vintage Bobby Knight verbal stylings. It went on for over forty-five minutes and ending with him shouting the pre-school equivalent of the c-bomb: "I HATE YOU, MOMMY!"

So he's been grounded from the Wii for a week. And once again, the Irony Gods have vanquished me, transforming the Wii from something that made me Mother of The Year into an instrument of Satan which has made The Boy hate me on a daily basis.

You will pay, evil Costco executives, for turning him against me. I am going unleash pint-sized hell on your collective asses. The Boy is suffering from Wii withdrawal and he is HIGHLY PISSED OFF. Consider yourselves warned.