Inju-wii-es
For the three months that Mark and I were wii-less but still very "in tune" with the wii media buzz, we would frankly ridicule those stupid people who somehow managed to get so engrossed in their game that they would:
a) put their arm through a window
b) backhand a friend and break his or her nose
or
c) throw the controller through the television screen
So we were loathe to accept that we had become one of "them" when Mark first had an accident involving a framed picture of a Newfoundland Fjord, an expensive wii-mote, his right hand and several knuckles. It's truly astonishing how emotionally invested one becomes when one's status as a wii-tennis pro is at stake and you find yourself set to play the dreaded computer-simulated Natalie and Suki duo.
We were even hesitant to give ourselves the status when I hit the wall with my fist when playing doubles with Joe.
However, today, when my front hand swing connected with Mark's back hand swing and the contact left me with the vague notion that my pinky might be broken while Mark's forearm bore the evidence of a six-inch welt, I felt the realization creep in.
We are there.
We are the wii-engrossed accident-prone ridiculous.
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