My kids convinced me to step on the Wii Fit balance board today. Okay, I thought. This will be fun! I’ll play Wii with the kids for awhile before I start packing again. Anything to put off doing work, right?
So I stepped in front of the TV and looked for my Mii (the little avatar that looks like you). My kids made my Mii for me about a year ago and I couldn’t remember what it looked like.
I found what I thought was my Mii.
My kids stopped me from selecting that one. “Noooo, Mom! That’s not you! That one is you!” they said, indicating another Mii.
THIS Mii. . .
Isn’t she lovely? She’s the spitting image of me. She’s as short as a Mii can be. She’s at maximum Mii fatness. She has the same wrinkles and bags under her eyes as I do. Gee, thanks, kids!
So, I selected my doppelganger and proceeded. The Wii began to talk to me.
“Hi Mom! It’s been 280 days since I’ve seen you. What, too busy to workout, Tubby? Save your excuses, Mom. Let’s do a body test. Step on the board. Before we start, can you tell me how much your clothes weigh?”
I looked at Lexi who was holding the Wii remote and said, “Fifty pounds. Put fifty pounds.”
She raised her eyebrows and just stared at me.
“What? This is a very heavy t-shirt!” I insisted.
“Fine. Just click heavy.”
Lexi obliged, then the Wii told me to stand on the board and relax the tension in my shoulders.
“Relax the tension in my shoulders? Really? Do you see the six kids running around like maniacs? Could you relax with that?” I yelled back at the Wii.
The Wii continued with, “Measuring, measuring, measuring, measuring, measuring. . .”
“Wow, it’s taking a long time to measure”, Lexi noted.
“It’s because Mom’s so fat!” Clay explained.
I whipped around to give Clay the evil eye which made the Wii admonish me.
“ERROR! Are you fidgeting? Stand still!”
“Hey. . .we’ve already passed the deadline for the goal you set, haven’t we?”
I glared at the TV and said, “Really? You have to write those words in red? What, just illustrating your point?”
The Wii continued. “So. . . have you reached your goal, Mom? Maybe if you’d spend less time sitting on that fat butt and more time exercising, you would have reached your goal. Have a salad now and then, Mom, and perhaps your kids will make you a new Mii that isn’t so round.”
The kids are laughing uproariously at this point. Lexi and Clay have fallen off the couch and are literally “ROFL”.
The Wii was relentless. It continued to taunt me.
“Maybe you should make a smaller goal, or one that’s easier to reach,” it patronized. “Now let’s do a little body test.”
As the Wii explained what I was supposed to do, Lexi used the remote to fly through the instructions, giving me .00008 seconds to read them.
“What am I supposed to do? WHAT DO I DO?!” I asked in a panic.
The kids all tried to explain at once.
“What?” I yelled as I wavered on the board. But it was too late. The Wii had already calculated the results of the test.
“The agility test OBVIOUSLY wasn’t your strong suit. And now I’d like to present you with your Wii Fit age!” it announced in grand fashion.
drumroll (Seriously, there was an actual drumroll!)
The kids nearly wet their pants laughing. This is what I get for procrastinating. Back to packing. Guess what’s getting packed away first!