Tuesday, December 27, 2011

What the Heck Is a Kirby, Anyway?

I'm cleaning the house this afternoon, and out of nowhere Handsome appears next to me. Okay, not out of nowhere, I mean I knew he was in his room, but he did just pop up awfully fast.

"Dad. I know you're cleaning, but can you help me with my game for a minute?"

His eyes are all round, and his expression is serious, and I know his game is giving him some real trouble.

"Okay," I say, "but just for a minute. I really have to get some cleaning done."

I go into his room where he has some game he calls "Kirby" on the wii. He's been playing it for a couple of hours now, but I think this might be the first time I've actually seen the game.

We sit down and he hands me a controller. We're trying to get past this big Boss Monster at the end of one of his levels. Now, I'm in a hurry, so I don't forget all about asking any questions, like how the controller works for this particular game, and Handsome knows I'm in a hurry so he doesn't mess around with any of that stuff either. We just dive right in.

30 minutes later I am red-faced and bulgy-eyed. If I could sweat, then I would be. We haven't bested the Boss Monster yet, and I haven't gotten back to my cleaning.

Does Handsome care?

No.

He's way too busy trying not to wet his pants as he laughs at me as hard as I've ever seen anyone laugh. He's laughing at my playing technique (or lack thereof), and especially at the words coming out of my mouth.

Do I swear?

No.

I get ... creative.

I use strange made-up phrases, with lots of references to 'monkey butts', and 'hairy nodules'. I have no idea what I'm talking about half the time, but I mean every word I say.

I'm pretty sure that at least half the fun Handsome gets out of playing these games is playing them with me and watching me lose my #@$#ing mind!

Talk to you later!

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