Wii are not happy.

So last weekend, Brian surprised me with a present - a new Wii.  This game console is designed with a remote that helps you play games by mimicking the movements you make in an actual game.  So for example, in tennis you would swing a racket, or in bowling you would roll a ball.  Mimic these same movements while holding the remote, and you're on your way to becoming a pro at Wii games.

I am not that good at video games.  Brian loves them, and can play them for hours.  I, on the other hand, am very picky about the games that appeal to me, and can't seem to get the hang of a PlayStation controller.  Brian has worked hard for years to find something that we can play together but hasn't had much luck in piquing my interest.  His thought was that a Wii would be good for me to play on maternity leave, while he works - that way I can spend the time to get good at it and play with him.  

The first real test of the console came later that night.  We had company visiting from out of town.  I put Alice to bed after her last feeding of the night and found Brian and his two friends in a hotly contested tennis match.  By all accounts, it was a good time for everyone.

This week, Brian spent some time poking around all the features, and discovered a fitness test.  The Wii randomly selects 3 training tests for you - for example, returning tennis serves, finishing spares in bowling, or hitting homeruns.  Based on the results, Wii calculates a "fitness age" for you. 

Brian took the test - keep in mind he had spent the prior evening playing all of these games with his friends - and Wii told him his fitness age is 37.  He's actually 35, so he didn't take the news well, and it didn't help that I laughed at him.  And pointed.  And laughed some more.  I told him he better not spend the next day taking the test over and over again, trying to turn into a 19-year old Wii stud.

Well, he tried, but it turns out Wii lets you take the test only once per day.  So the next night, he dutifully took the test again, and discovered he'd aged 2 more years.

Frustrated, he handed me the remote and made me take the test, whereupon he discovered he's married to a 62-year old woman.

I was so mad, I promptly sent him down the street to get me ice cream.

And yesterday, when I was allowed to take the test again (and did much better, I thought), I had aged 7 more years.

This has not been the best present so far.