My in-laws bought us a Wii for Christmas. It was a great present. It’s frivolous, and it encourages delusional behavior – both qualities I find desirable in a gift.
One of my favorite features of the Wii is a digital version of paper dolls. Users can create a player, a “Mii,” in great detail. A Mii can be bald or have pig-tails, sport a bushy unibrow or a large mole, wear dark sunglasses or a thick beard.
I won’t tell you how much time I have spent creating Mii’s – my little alter-egos – because it might make you a little bit afraid for me. Let’s just say I have a few from which to choose, but I always send Tami bowling on my behalf.
Tami is everything I am not. She is tall and tan and cool under pressure. And she is a fabulous bowler.
Channeling Tami, I have racked up the points in Wii bowling, so when we decided to hit the real-life bowling alley a couple weeks ago, I was looking forward to showing off.
Because Wii, of course, is just like real life.
My mom was in town, so it was the perfect time to go. With three adults on hand, one of us could chase 18-month-old Belly around the bowling alley to make sure she didn’t lick the pinball machines, and two of us could hang out with 3½ -year-old Miss D. and teach her to bowl.
I don’t know why I thought I was qualified to teach anyone how to bowl.
With the exception of 15 disastrous minutes last summer when I mistakenly thought I could take both girls bowling by myself, I haven’t participated in this sport since long before we moved here from New England. At home, years ago, we went candlepin bowling. Candlepin bowling balls fit in the palm of one’s hand and don’t require the player to shove her fingers into tiny holes.
If one has the right technique, the size of the balls should not matter, but it does. Ahem. Those little balls make it much easier to knock down the pins, even if you are not a beautiful and skilled Mii named Tami. That is not to say candlepin bowling is not a serious sport; the pot-bellied men who play it on local TV every Saturday morning in the Boston viewing area certainly look serious about it.
I was a little nervous when I saw the size of the bowling balls people use here, but Miss D. looked confident. She picked out her ball and headed up to the lane to take her turn. With the bumpers up, Miss D. really couldn’t go wrong. She dropped her ball, and it slowly, slooowly, slooooowly made its way down the lane and nudged the pins. The pins reacted well to this technique.
My husband, my mother and I should have put the bumpers up on our turns, as well, because Wii-skills aside, we were very bad bowlers. Miss D. crushed us. Then she gloated.
I’ve been loath to hang out with Tami since my shaming at the bowling alley. She steered me wrong, she gave me a false sense of confidence, and I fear she did it all on purpose. Hussy.
I’m moving on. I have a new Mii – Bertha. She has a huge wart on her chin; gray, braided hair and thick glasses. She’s a horrid bowler, but she’s showing some promise on the tennis court.
Yeah, tennis. I think I could be really good at that.
Country-Fried Mama is a transplanted Yankee raising two girls in the land of college football, sweet tea, and refined manners. Visit her blog at www.countryfriedmama.com and follow her on Twitter @countryfried.
