It's On Like Donkey Kong OR The Continuing Saga of the Wii

It's actually on like Wii Sports but, it IS on.  Oh yes indeed. It's ON.  When our daughters and BestSonInLawEVER so generously gave us the RED Wii for Christmas (follow the link for part 1 of the story), I just bet they had no idea as to the trouble extreme level of competition excessive fun that was to be unleashed.  OR, maybe they did.

With the increase in testosterone in the house over New Year's weekend came a plethora of Wii challenges.  Challenges in golf, tennis, baseball and BOWLING.  Surprisingly-- and you may want to sit down for this if you aren't already-- all THREE remotes were working just fine.  That's right.  Three men in the house--Dad, Hubs, BestSonInLawEVER --and the remotes were fully and properly functional.  It was the game itself, this time, that was hindering those much coveted high scores.  Mind you, they all stuck together.  Whenever one threw a ball in, say, bowling, and didn't get a strike, the other two utterly foolish people wonderfully funny men would say something like,

"I really thought you had it that time."
"It looked to me like that should have been a strike."
"I know.  I threw it just right."
 A small discussion would ensue as to the technique of the throw and the next fool fellow would step up for his turn. 

It was fun, I must admit, listening to these grown men (31, 56, 75--proof positive that it spans generations) carry on so about how "the game wouldn't let that pin fall down because it really should have gone down that time."  The more estrogen minded of us snickered while playing Farkle and Banana Grams.  Until Sunday...when BestSonInLawEVER threw down the gauntlet on (cue the doom music) ME.

Things had been going along just fine.  Dad, Hubs and BestSonInLawEVER were playing Wii Bowling (again--I think in an attempt to figure out what the problem was with the game) and the rest of us were chuckling at their stupidity...again watching the game when BestSonInLawEVER threw a horrible ball that left several pins still standing.  I made a comment:  "Whoa.  Who threw THAT?"  followed by what might be construed as a snicker of sorts.


BestSonInLawEVER: "Nobody's business is who threw that."
Dad:  "Who asked that anyway?"
BestSonInLawEVER:  "That was from the peanut gallery over there."
Hubs: "Yeah, that's what it sounded like." (He's really quite brave when there are witnesses around)
Me:  (to self) "Oh REALLY?"
BestSonInLawEVER:  "Don't stand over there commenting if you aren't willing to get in the game."
Me: "Bring it on...Dude."

Now, the following events were not pretty.  At least, not if you were Dad, Hubs OR BestSonInLawEVER.  While the game continued to thwart their attempts at winning the game, it had no negative effect on my score.  I threw strike after strike and spare after spare.  And the more strikes and spares I threw, the more unhappy the testosterone plagued competitors became.  My final score was not tremendous (200) but it was quite enough and then some to beat each and every one of them....badly.  Side note: While playing them in the training mode where you keep getting more pins and trying to knock as many as possible down in ten turns?  My score: 667.  They barely broke 400.

And so, the remainder of the early afternoon, while the winner women played Farkle and Banana Grams again (without incident, I might add), the men decided that they just needed to throw like I do and each proceeded to try.  We have NEVER laughed so hard in all our lives at the way they interpreted my technique.  It resembled a ballet being over exaggerated tremendously by The Three Stooges.  They only difference, these guys were serious.  

Our lesson on that fateful Sunday afternnoon?  That's right.  Do NOT throw your challenge in the direction of your excessively competitive MotherInLaw.  EVER.